All That Glitters
by poetic star
Summary: Blaine transfers to McKinley after being expelled from Dalton. Everyone expects him to make a clean start but forgetting the reason why he got in trouble in the first place is easier said than done.
1. Chapter 1

Blaine's fingers strummed on the acoustic guitar with a steady persistence that was quickly spiraling towards irritation. It had been awhile since he'd written an original song, so the process that evening was going achingly slow.  
"Two empty seats on a train,  
Oh I wish..  
Oh I wish that y-"

"Ugh, no.." He muttered, pulling his left hand away from the guitar strings to pick up his pen and scribble clumsily in the notebook sitting next to him on the porch steps. The evening was smoldering as it was late August and Blaine was already wearing the sleeveless Henley and sweatpants he usually wore to bed. His father was due home from work any minute now and the sixteen-year old was not looking forward to having dinner with his old man. The next day would be the beginning of Blaine's junior year at a new school and the stress and worry was already piling up on him, without factoring in his dad's ever-disapproving stare over beef stew.  
The front door creaked open at that moment and Blaine's mother poked her head out. "Honey, do you want to watch the X-Factor with me?" she asked hopefully, examining the way her son was hunching over his guitar. It worried her every time Blaine isolated himself like this.  
But Blaine could practically hear the things his dark-haired mother wasn't saying and an involuntary fake smile graced his features as he turned his head to look at her. "I'm actually trying to finish something and I'm a little tired, anyway, Mom." He tried to make his tone sound as courteous as possible, seeing as she wasn't the parent that annoyed him ceaselessly. "Is it okay if I skip dinner tonight?"  
Gina Anderson frowned.  
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" she inquired gently, stepping out onto the porch and sitting down next to Blaine.  
Blaine suppressed a sigh. He started strumming on the guitar again but only halfheartedly this time. "A little but I'll be okay."  
Gina observed the way his golden brown eyes looked troubled and placed a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow circles. "I'm worried about you," she said simply.  
Blaine knew what she meant immediately, which only made his guilt sink in deeper. "I haven't done anything, Mom," he told her, meeting her gaze steadily. "I haven't done anything since January." It wasn't entirely true but Blaine decided that his mom didn't need to know about the one time he'd slipped up and taken drugs just to forget about someone's rejection. It was humiliating that he could picture the vomiting that had occurred afterwards so vividly.  
"I promise," he added thickly, feeling a lump rising in his throat.  
"I know, honey," his mother gave him a warm sideways hug before standing up. "Just don't stay up too late. Tomorrow's a new day."  
Once she had gone back inside, Blaine glanced up at the blackberry-tinted sky above the identical houses lining his neighborhood. Everything looked the same as it had since he was twelve years old. That knowledge felt surreal when he considered how much he had changed inside since then; how many un-childlike things he'd experienced in just a short time. It was jarring and sad, to say the least.

Despite the flawless sunshine streaming in through his bedroom window the next morning, Blaine woke with no desire to start the day. At 6:45, his hair was an unruly mess and it took him twice as much as time in the bathroom, trying to get it to cooperate under a decent amount of gel.  
He picked out a black Flower Bomb t-shirt, that his mother hated,and a pair of skinny jeans then headed downstairs for breakfast.  
In the bright tiled kitchen, his mother was pouring coffee into a travel mug while his dad sat at the wobbly table, reading The Daily Reporter and picking absentmindedly at his eggs.  
Blaine grinned when his mother wrinkled her nose at his choice of apparel.  
"I don't do flannel, Mom," he said before she could comment.  
Gina rolled her eyes good-naturedly.  
Tyler Anderson glanced up over the top of the paper at his well-groomed but slightly tired-looking son. "Blaine, you have to be there early to get your class schedule," he felt the need to remind the boy.  
Blaine reached for the box of Honeyed Oats disinterestedly. "I know, Dad. I still have time."  
Tyler looked at the clock on the wall and didn't say anything.  
"Well, I'm off," Gina exclaimed then, slinging her purse over her shoulder and pausing to kiss each of the Anderson men on the cheek. "See you two later!"  
Tyler waited till he heard the front door closing before he set down the newspaper and studied his son more closely. "Blaine?"  
"Here it comes," Blaine thought as he avoided his father's cold green eyes while shoving a spoonful of soggy cereal into his mouth.  
Ever since that night five months ago when he'd come home completely buzzed off Ecstasy and anger and his ex-boyfriend's cruel laughter, Blaine and his dad had found ways to argue almost every moment they were alone together. Sometimes it was like the fighting was a car and they would put on the brakes only when Blaine's mother was in the room. The second she'd leave, they'd feel free to accelerate with more blame pointed at each other.  
Blaine felt incredibly sad when he remembered playing football in the backyard and learning to cook steaks on the barbeque pit with the man sitting across from him. How had he screwed everything up? Now it was as if those memories were merely fantasies, rolling around in his head. Now he couldn't recall a time when his father wasn't disappointed every time he looked at him.  
"Try to stay out of trouble," Tyler Anderson said. "That's all I'm asking."  
Blaine's jaw tightened and he chewed the last of his cereal with a queasy stomach. To be fair, though, he didn't think he deserved his father's forgiveness. In Blaine's mind, he had been an idiot, falling for Sebastian.

Lima was only an hour away from his home in Westerville, so Blaine pulled into the parking lot of McKinley High School fifteen minutes early.  
He headed towards the front office immediately to pick up his class schedule and convince the principal that he wasn't as bad as his father had inevitably made him out to be.  
Blaine cringed as he remembered meeting Principal Figgins during student orientation with his parents. The coffee-skinned man had looked Blaine up and down with a steely glare as his mother had mumbled something about her son wanting to make a clean start. Blaine's father hadn't been so merciful in clarifying, however, that that he wanted to stay off the drugs and "peer pressure". That had been one of the most humiliating moments of Blaine's young life.  
Now as he reached the front office, he noticed two jocks leaned on either side of the door.  
"Nice glasses, freak," the African-American one said as Blaine passed. But he barely glanced their way, seeing as the Titans hadn't won a game in over a year so Blaine didn't understand what they had to feel conceited about.  
Sauntering over to the secretary's desk, he told the lady behind it his name and waited for her to dig his file. The woman pulled out a sheet of paper from a folder in front of her but before handing it to him, she said, "Principal Figgins wants to see you in his office before your first class."  
Blaine suppressed a sigh but kept his expression blank.  
There were chairs pushed up against the wall next to the door to Figgins' office. A girl with pink hair sat next to a guy with a Mohawk who kept giving Blaine the stink eye now and then. The girl smiled invitingly as he brushed by.  
Thankfully, Figgins didn't keep Blaine for long. After explaining the school's no smoking/no fighting policy, he let him speed off to his first class after the warning bell rang. Blaine noticed a strange smell akin to road kill when he'd been inside Figgins' office and he was grateful to finally be headed to his English class.  
"Hey, cutie, hold up!" a slightly husky feminine called suddenly as he started down the long hallways.  
Blaine didn't break stride, even as he glanced to his right and saw the girl with pink hair jogging along beside him.  
She was very pretty, despite her tragically asymmetrical haircut and grunge taste in style.  
"Are you new here?" she asked Blaine, seeming unaware of his haste or not caring either way.  
Blaine nodded without slowing down.  
"I figured. No one here looks remotely as cool.." She trailed off with a hint of longing in her voice.  
Blaine glanced at her sideways, his lips turning up at the corners in an amused smile. She was flirting. "I doubt that," he said lightly.  
"Seriously," the girl continued, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "This place blows."  
Blaine didn't respond as he navigated through the swarm of students in multi-colored sweaters. Coming from Dalton Academy, he was used to seeing only uniforms. The new sight of speeding bodies had sort of a kaleidoscopic effect and Blaine was glad he'd kept his shades on.  
"I'm Quinn," the girl declared as he spotted the open door of Mrs. Pemberton's English class. "I eat lunch with a group of friends under the bleachers. If you don't have anything better to do, you can join us."  
Blaine came to a complete stop and extended his hand to the girl as he figured she wasn't totally exhausting. "I'm Blaine."  
Quinn smiled mischievously, placing her hand in his for a brief instant before when pulling back with a smirk. Blaine found a cigarette tucked between his pointer and middle finger.  
He glanced up to see Quinn giving him a wink and turning around, walking back towards the double doors at the end of the hall.  
"Maybe this place won't be so bad," Blaine thought as he tucked the cigarette she had given him in the pocket of his jeans.

Spanish with Mr. Shuester was just as tedious and mediocre as the other classes Blaine had attended that morning. While the blue-eyed man wasn't condescending or unfairly strict, Blaine got the impression that Will Shuester only agreed to teach the class because he considered the subject effortless.  
So the work wasn't challenging in the least, especially for Blaine who spoke both Spanish and Italian fluently. While his fellow classmates repeated rudimentary nouns and phrases over and over, Blaine doodled on his arm with a sharpie.  
At one point, he noticed the Asian boy in the desk next him staring openly at the tattoo stenciled across his left wrist. It was a half angel wing with the elemental symbol for water bordering one of the protruding feathers. Blaine's old irritation returned and he found himself glaring at the kid and asking sharply, "Do you need something?"  
"No," the boy mumbled, dropping his gaze to the text book sitting unopened on his desk. Blaine let out an audible sigh and turned to stare out one of the windows.  
He didn't notice Mr. Shuester pausing mid-lecture to study him curiously from the front of the room.

As lunchtime rolled by, Blaine decided to take Quinn up on her offer to eat under the bleachers with her and her "friends".  
The only form of sustenance he'd brought with him that day due to his intense nervousness, which he fished out of locker as the sounds of laughter and teenage gossip swirled around him.  
"Did you think it was really going to last? a girl in a tight cheerleading uniform was saying loudly as she ambled past. "I mean, she slept with his best friend!"  
Her companion, a redhead in a short denim, agreed fervently.  
"Totally! But I still can't believe he's dating Rachel Berry now. Talk about offensive.."  
Blaine tuned out the rest of what the girls were saying as he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Closing his locker, he pulled it out of the back pocket of his jeans, and without looking at the number, answered.  
"Hey."  
"Blaine! Man, how's it going?"  
The energetic voice on the other end belonged to his friend, David, from Dalton Academy. Blaine felt a rush of embarrassment as he recalled the last time they had spoken.  
"I'm good." He cleared his throat before continuing. "H-how are you, David?"  
"Dude, I'm great but it feels really weird not seeing you around," David replied in his usually charming voice.  
Blaine allowed himself a genuine smile as he leaned against his locker. "Yeah, believe me, it feels weird being in a new school."  
"Wes says hi."  
"Tell him I say hi back and that I miss fight club."  
David laughed. "Those were the days, huh?"  
"Totally," Blaine exhaled sadly. "Everything's so messed up now.."  
"Hey, Blaine, don't think about it, alright?" David interrupted. "That's not why I'm calling. I just wanted to wish you luck on your first day and let you know that we're still around if you want to hang out or just talk...Okay?"  
Blaine took a deep breath. "How can you say that, man?" His hand tightened around the phone. "You saw everything that happened that week. How can you not be angry at me? Dean Wilson asked me point blank and I-"  
"Dude!" David cut in with a bit more edge this time. He sounded exasperated. "It doesn't matter anymore."  
From the corner of his eye, Blaine noticed a kid with frizzy brown hair and glasses staring at him intently from a few lockers away. He lowered his voice as he answered David. "Okay, I'm sorry."  
He didn't know what there was left to say.  
"It's cool, man. I gotta go now but you should come over this weekend. We can watch football or take turns on my brother's bike. Also, I remember how much you love my mom's dinners."  
Blaine chuckled, feeling his mood lift momentarily. "Sounds awesome."  
"Great!" David exclaimed jollily. "I'll text you when I get out of class on Friday so you'll know what time, okay?"  
"Alright. I'll see you then."  
"Take care, dude."  
"Bye, David."  
Blaine heard a click as David hung up and turning in the direction of the back exit doors at then end of the hallway."

He found Quinn outside under the shade of the bleachers with her back pressed against the chain link fence that bordered the football field.  
"You came," Quinn mused, chewing on some gum and raking her moss green eyes over Blaine's body in a semi casual manner.  
Blaine shrugged. "Why would you think I wouldn't?"  
Quinn mirrored his shrug. Blaine smirked. He was beginning to like this girl.  
Then as if just realizing that they weren't alone, Quinn tilted her head towards the three girls lingering nearby. "This is Sheila, Ronnie and The Mac."  
Blaine nodded to each of the girls wearing similar grunge outfits. The third girl Quinn had introduced as The Mac, was wearing the shortest leather mini skirt Blaine had ever seen. She gave him a sultry half smile that almost came across as challenging.  
"You look like you'd be good in bed," she said brazenly.  
Blaine couldn't help chuckling at that. "Sorry, sweetheart. I don't play for your team."  
The brunette just shrugged.  
Quinn took the cigarette out of her mouth and exhaled a cloud of smoke in the side of Blaine's. He didn't flinch, which impressed Quinn and made her ask, "Is it true that you got kicked out of some fancy private school for sleeping with one of the male teachers?"  
Blaine, having unwrapped his lunch a second ago, almost choked on a huge bite of chocolate bar. Swallowing loudly, he turned to Quinn, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "Is that story going around?" He tried to keep a light incredulous tone to his voice and not freak her out by how seriously pissed he felt upon hearing this.  
Quinn looked unfazed, however. "That's only one of the theories people are making up for why you transferred to this crap shack. I mean, why would anyone enroll here unless they were forced to?"  
Blaine's eyes drifted to the football field where a group of cheerleaders in bright red uniforms was assembling on the grass. He could see a tall woman with short blond hair marching behind, carrying a bullhorn.  
"Well, I was expelled, actually," Blaine murmured quietly, watching as the cheerleaders began to stretch. "But I didn't have an affair with a balding teacher."  
Quinn nodded, smiling. She got the impression that he was reluctant to go into detail about his past, and while she understood what that was like, given her own notoriety at McKinley, she also wanted Blaine to know that she wouldn't criticize.  
"I figured it wasn't real," she said with an unexpected gentleness that caused Blaine to turn his eyes away from cheerleading practice back to her face.  
"Another rumor is that the cops found five pounds of marijuana in your locker."  
Blaine bit down on the last piece of candy bar and crumpled the wrapper in his palm. "Actually," he said, tossing it over the fence. "That one is true."


	2. Chapter 2

okay, here's chapter 2. Please be patient with me, people lol I'm just getting the hang of this. Glee obviously doesn't belong to me. I'm just terribly fond of the characters..especially Blaine :P

* * *

As Blaine popped open the can of Dr. Pepper , he contemplated how much he disliked the thought of going home that afternoon. His mother had announced at breakfast that she'd just ironed his only button-down shirt because they were going to have dinner with his grandparents that night. Blaine was positive that his grandmother, who was an extremely critical and suspicious woman, would find some fault in him, regardless of his apparel. That was why he was currently stalling near the soda machine in the hallway outside of his last period class.  
Two cheerleaders brushed past; one, a Latina, just happened to slap Blaine on the butt as she passed, causing him to spill his soda on his new black Creepers.  
Cursing, Blaine glanced down, only to hear someone wail in a high-pitched voice, "Oh what the hell?!"  
That was when he realized that his shoes weren't the only things he'd spilled his soda on. Glancing up, he came into contact with a very agonized-looking boy in tight red pants and a matching t-shirt with the word Cheerio stamped on the front.  
Blaine raised his eyebrows. The boy's eyes, though widened in distress and horror at the sight of the brown stain on his uniform, were a mesmerizing bluish green; the color of a swimming pool. And he had pretty lips too, Blaine couldn't help but notice.  
"I'm sorry about that.. Those girls were running and-" Blaine almost stuttered, extending his hand, though he didn't know why. It wasn't as if he could wipe off the stain on the boy's shirt when he was frantically rubbing at it, only making it spread.  
"Coach Sylvester is going to kill me," the boy muttered, seeming to not have heard Blaine at all.  
"I'm really sorry," Blaine said again, finding himself rooted to the floor as he checked the boy out.  
It was then that the boy raised his head, meeting Blaine's stare for the first time.  
"Couldn't you have opened that somewhere else?" he demanded irritably.  
Blaine bit down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Like where?" he asked with genuine confusion in his tone.  
The boy blinked, seeming to get even more indignant. "How about somewhere you can't bump into people? Like outside, jackass!"  
Blaine's eyes widened and he couldn't stop the next words that flowed out of his mouth, mirroring the other boy's irritation. "Hey, hold on a minute, Prissy Pants, those cheerleaders bumped into me, which caused a few drops to spill on your precious uniform so it doesn't make sense for you to get hot and bothered about something that wasn't even my fault."  
The boy raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise but then clutched the hem of his shirt and exclaimed loudly, "This is more than just 'a few drops'!"  
"Oh grow up!" Blaine sighed exasperatedly. For all his cuteness, this boy was undoubtedly a piece of work, he could already tell. And as if to confirm this observation, Blaine heard the boy shout "Clumsy childish low-life!" as he turned towards the exit double doors.  
"Drama queen," Blaine muttered under his breath as the sunshine practically blinded him.

"Blaine?" Blaine's grandfather reached across his grandmother's elegantly set dinner table and squeezed his arm fondly. "How's it going at your new school?"  
Blaine smiled, pleased that at least somebody in his family didn't think he was a complete screw-up. "It's fine, Granddad, but I just started so we'll see."  
His grandfather laughed, being a lot more easy-going than Blaine's father. "Well, it must be saving your parents a couple hundred bucks, huh? That's always good. I always thought that private school you were attending was beyond ridiculous when it came to tuition and those uniforms.." His grandfather made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "Yech!"  
Blaine grinned. "I sort of liked the uniforms back then, but I have to admit, it feels a lot more liberating being out of them."  
Before Blaine's grandfather, Tom, could make a joke to lighten the mood around the diner table that had somehow darkened at the mention of Blaine's transfer, Blaine's grandmother, Lucy, spoke up in a condescending tone, "Liberating? From what I remember, you didn't need to change out of uniform to take part in a number of 'liberating' things."  
The grey-haired woman raised her perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "Isn't that right?" Her muddy brown eyes glanced tauntingly from Blaine to his parents who sat with matching embarrassed expressions on their faces. Blaine started to feel guilty seeing how his mother tapped her fork nervously against the side of her plate. But all he felt towards his grandmother was equal parts disappointment and shame.  
"I saw Ana Duncan at Macy's last Saturday," Lucy Anderson continued in a flippant tone, raising her wine glass to her pursed lips. "She was positively glowing! It turns out Brien won the MVP award at the show choir Sectionals competition."  
Blaine felt something stir in his chest. It might have been embarrassment or envy but he wasn't sure. He and Brien had never been close because Brien was a freshman. Only a short time ago, Blaine had been the youngest member of the Dalton Academy Warblers to win an MVP. Now he was upstaged by a freshman. It seemed like the humiliation just kept piling up..

As soon as his bedroom door closed behind him, Blaine ripped off the stupid powder blue button down shirt his mother had forced him to wear. The drive home from his grandparents' had been tense, to say the least. His mother had tried to soothe him by saying his Grandma Lucy didn't mean to sound condescending, that she was just having a difficult time accepting Blaine's expulsion from private school. Blaine, however, didn't want to hear any of her excuses because a part of him thought his grandmother's disapproval was warranted, which made it even more unbearable.  
Exhaling loudly, he turned on the stereo, collapsing on his bed.  
The opening steady beats of "Amy" by Green Day filled the space with a mellow feeling that Blaine welcomed. It was true that the lyrics and tune were a tad melancholy, but at the moment he appreciated it greatly.  
Closing his eyes, Blaine concentrated on delving into the sound of the music playing.

_"Amy, don't you go._  
_I want you around.._  
_Singing whoa, please don't go,_  
_Do you want to be a friend of mine?_

_Did you tattoo a lucky charm_  
_To keep you out of harm's way?_  
_Warding off all evil signs_  
_But never really kept you safe.."_

_Blaine rubbed at his eyes with one hand, staring up at the fan hanging from the ceiling. It was whirring like a helicopter, but for some reason, he felt incredibly warm, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. And the bed he was lying on was much to soft for his liking. The mattress was covered with a dark red coverlet and sunk beneath him._  
_"Hey, are you okay, dude?"_  
_Blaine turned his head and saw Sebastian perched on the edge of the bed, staring at him closely._  
_Blaine sighed. "Yeah, I'm just...warm. It's really hot in here; I feel like I'm sweating." He wiped his fingers over his forehead but there was no perspiration on them. "Weird.." he mumbled._  
_Sebastian chuckled, laying his hand on Blaine's chest. "Relax. That's how it's supposed to feel. The first time is a real shock but then you start to feel calmer."_  
_Blaine swallowed._  
_They didn't know each other very well. Blaine was still a little nervous but didn't want to sound like a wimp, especially considering that his friends had bought drugs from Sebastian before._  
_Blaine closed his eyes. For some reason, the lighting in the room was incredibly bright all of a sudden. Sebastian's hand moved across his chest in a slow rubbing motion that helped Blaine's nerves when he started to feel light-headed. Sebastian leaned closer until the sleeve of his sweater brushed against Blaine's cheek._  
_"Starting to feel better?" he asked in a low, almost guttural voice._  
_Blaine nodded, even though he wasn't sure._  
_Sebastian brushed a hand across his forehead. "Your eyelashes are pretty, Blaine," he said. "For a boy, they're very pretty."_  
_Blaine rolled his eyes but before he could make a snarcky comment, Sebastian kissed him on the lips._

Blaine startled awake, only realizing that he'd fallen asleep when his awkward jolt caused the science book on his bed to tumble to the floor.  
He rolled off the bed and went to turn off the stereo. Then he flung himself back on the bed with a frustrated grumble and pulled out the science worksheets under the blue coverlet that he was supposed to complete. The next few hours were spent answering questions about The Greenhouse Effect.  
That night Blaine avoided sleep by listening to rock ballads soaked in angst, while straining his tired mind, trying to invent the best lyrics to fit the notes bouncing around in his head. He couldn't play his guitar because his parents were asleep but he was too afraid that he would have another crappy dream. When morning arrived with an unexpected curtain of rain tumbling down outside his window, Blaine found that even though his body ached with exhaustion, he couldn't wait to get busy in some way.

Round silver drops hit the windows of the Scion as Blaine lounged in the backseat with his guitar on his lap and one of the side windows partially rolled down, letting the cool rain spray his face occasionally. The song was getting better. The bridge was beginning to sound more intriguing and less like the soft melody he'd used for the intro. He began to sing quietly to himself.

"There are two empty seats  
On the train heading east.  
I wish one was occupied  
By your quirky smile and maple eyes.  
But maybe it's time I stopped acting  
Like a kid, feeling all these things..

Maybe if this was still 2008  
And there were no disapproving  
Shadows on your face,  
I could believe that what we  
Had was genuine but  
I've come to find, babe, that  
The words you pressed against  
My red-scarred neck  
Were made of snow  
And glass and meaningless  
After school promises.

I-"

Blaine's singing was cut short by a persistent tapping noise echoing nearby.  
"Hello?"  
He raised his head to see a girl peering through the crack where part of the passenger side window was rolled down. She had coffee brown eyes and a Barbra Straisand type nose.  
"Hey, you!" she said, cupping her hands on the blurry glass. "What's your name?"  
Blaine raised himself up higher. "Blaine. What's yours?"  
"Rachel Barry," the girl replied. "I'm in glee club. You sound really nice."  
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Glee club? Great."  
Of course he knew McKinley had a glee club. The New Directions had competed against the Warblers last year. From what Blaine remembered, they had won Sectionals but lost at Nationals.  
"Umm.. thanks," Blaine answered awkwardly. He really didn't want to get out of the car but she was staring at him like she expected him to. And as much as life irritated him at the moment, Blaine never felt comfortable being rude to girls, especially when they were standing in an icy downpour. So with a groan, Blaine set his guitar down on the backseat and climbed over the console to the front of the car.  
Rachel stepped back as he slid out the passenger side door.  
"Are you a new transfer?"  
"Yeah, I'm a junior."  
Rachel chewed her lip for a second, as if mulling over her next words. "You look sort of familiar," she said slowly, her eyes scaling up and down Blaine's form. "What school did you go to before?"  
Blaine held back a sigh. "Dalton."  
Rachel's eyes almost popped out of her head. "You weren't with the Warblers, were you?"  
Blaine shrugged, trying to look and sound nonchalant as he replied, "For a short awhile. I mostly stood in the back. though.. never got any solos so you don't have to worry about me coming here and trying to take over your glee club." He gave her a wink to calm her nerves.  
Rachel pursed her lips, looking slightly embarrassed. "Actually, we are looking for new members. You could audition."  
Blaine forced a smile. "Thanks, but I'm not interested. Been there, done that, you know?"  
He turned to get his book bag from the passenger seat.  
He expected Rachel to say goodbye and leave but when he turned back around, she was still standing there with her eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in a determined line.  
"Look," she said. "My teammates seem to think I'm too self-absorbed to go out and find new members and perhaps that would've been true last year, but even I'm aware now that we need new talent in order to compete. So would you please consider coming to choir room during lunch?"  
Blaine sighed, realizing that this girl was particularly difficult to get rid of. "So you want me to join just to prove to your friends that you're not a selfish person?"  
His tone was heavy with criticism, which made Rachel's voice rise as she spoke.  
"No," she replied indignantly. "I'm asking you to audition simply because your voice is relatively decent."  
She folded her arms over her chest and scowled at the ground. "But the choice is yours. Honestly, I don't care either way."  
Blaine fought back a chuckle, knowing she was lying.  
"Okay, Rachel," he said as smoothly as he could. "No offense to you or your glee club, but I'm done with that part of my life. The Warblers were great and I had fun and all but some not so great stuff happened while I was competing with them and I'm just getting over it so.. Sorry. I can't help you."  
He brushed past her gently as the rain picked up and started walking towards the school.  
"Wait!"  
Blaine groaned as he heard Rachel call out behind him. Did this girl ever quit?  
He didn't slow down, though, because one glance at his watch told him that the first bell was about to ring.  
"Why don't you have lunch with me and my friend, Kurt?" Rachel inquired breathlessly as she jogged up the steps beside him leading up to the front doors. "You can see for yourself how totally nonjudgmental and easy-going we are."  
Blaine smiled. Her persistence was kind of sweet in a slightly annoying, childish way. "I can't. I'm already eating lunch with someone."  
"Who?"  
"Her name's Quinn."  
"Quinn Fabray?" Rachel sounded stunned. "The former cheerleader turned skank Quinn Fabray?"  
Blaine stopped and gave her a hard look. "Wow. And I thought you Glee people were 'nonjudgmental'."  
Rachel shook her head quickly. "No, that's what they call themselves. Quinn's new friends; they call themselves The Skanks. Ask anyone."  
Blaine didn't really have a response to this so he turned and hurried into the building, leaving Rachel still trying to convince him to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

~  
Coach Beiste was the toughest-looking woman Blaine had ever seen. On the first day of gym class, the sight of her had made him nervous, with her baritone voice and thick frame. But it turned out that she was actually nicer to Blaine than to the other kids for two reasons; Blaine was really good at sports and he didn't fool around with the equipment.  
Back in Dalton, Blaine had been on the wrestling team his freshman and sophomore years, as well as the "fight club", which was something that the Warblers had started to help kids defend themselves against bullying.  
He and David and Wes used to go to the Westerville gym after school and practice boxing every other weekend.  
At the moment, Blaine stood in the center of the gym at McKinley, however, behind a wide net put there for a tennis lesson.  
He figured Coach Beiste was either having a lazy day or taking it easy on the rest of the class, seeing as this was one of the simplest sports he'd ever participated in.  
Blaine, dressed in the required red t-shirt and matching shorts, served the ball to the captain of the other team over the net. The ball sailed over the blond girl's head but got hit back by an African-American girl behind her who seemed to be the only one on her team not ducking or hanging back.  
"Nice serve," she said to Blaine after Coach Beiste had blown the whistle and dismissed everyone to their respective locker rooms.  
"Thanks," Blaine replied noncommittedly.  
"I'm Mercedes," the girl declared as they walked around a corner following the other sweaty uniform-clad teens.  
"Blaine."  
"Are you from Westerville?"  
"Yeah." Blaine kept his answers short for a reason; he didn't feel like elaborating on his background, considering what he'd heard from Quinn.  
"I thought so," Mercedes replied, not looking shocked or horrified in the least, which threw Blaine off. "I heard Quinn talking about you the other day."  
Blaine didn't respond. He hoped this Mercedes girl wasn't trying to get him to admit to any rumors.  
"Anyway," Mercedes continued in the same breezy tone as before. "I think anyone who brings Puckerman down from his high horse is a cool cat."  
"What do you mean? Who's Puckerman?"  
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "He's the school's narcissistic self-proclaimed bad-ass. You've already seen him, I'm sure. Mohawk?"  
Blaine nodded, suppressing a groan. The last thing he needed was for some John Bender-wannabe to think he was trying to rob him of his image or "turf".  
"Well, you should've seen how jealous he looked while Quinn was singing your praises, homeboy," Mercedes laughed. "His eyes were practically bursting out of his head!"  
"Well, you can tell him to cool off," Blaine responded, stepping away from Mercedes as he spotted the boys' locker room. "I'm not a bad-ass."  
"Mmmhmm, whatever you say!" Mercedes called as Blaine turned around. "You just watch your back 'cause Puck's got his magnetic green eyeball on you."  
Blaine ignored her laughter and headed to one of the lockers. Though he'd rather just blow it off, he made a mental note to find Quinn sooner rather than later and beg for her to stop gossiping about him to her boyfriend. Sure, he could confront this Puckerman guy himself, but from Mercedes had insinuated, he wasn't the type to talk things over. And Blaine just wasn't in the mood for-  
"I heard that he was caught humping his science teacher! Like inside the classroom up against the board."  
Blaine stopped rummaging through his duffle bag as he suddenly picked up on a conversation nearby.  
Two boys standing a few lockers away with towels wrapped around their waists were blatantly staring at him.  
Blaine felt his stomach twist with nausea.  
"Male or female?" one boy asked, tauntingly.  
"Does it matter?" the other replied, smirking. "Dalton's an all boys school. They're probably all a bunch of fairies."  
Blaine slammed his locker shut, turning to face the sneering pair.  
"Are you done?" He asked, his voice dangerously close to rising.  
The boy who had made the fairy comment gave Blaine an amused look, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "What are you talking about?"  
"Are you done with your douchebaggery? Because if it's me you're referring to, then we have a serious problem."  
"Oh and what's that?"  
"The fact that you want to blow us and we're not interested?" the other boy said, folding his arms over his bare chest.  
They both chuckled but before they could say or do anything else, Blaine had already lunged at the boy closest to him, raising his fist and driving it into the boy's jaw.

The next thing Blaine felt was a pair of strong hands around his waist, pulling him away from the boy he'd just punched. Blaine whipped around and saw the Asian kid from his Spanish class standing behind him.  
"Hey, what's going on?!" a voice thundered from the locker room door.  
Coach Beiste strode across the floor and clapped a hand down hard on Blaine's shoulder.  
"Mr. Anderson, care to explain?" she demanded.  
Blaine, however, was still fuming from the inside, his cheeks burning red and his right hand itching with the urge to punch again, that he failed to reply.  
"Alright then," Coach Beiste said, peering down at Blaine's face, though he refused to look up. "Let's take a little walk to Principal Figgins's office."

Two minutes later, Blaine found himself sitting across from Principal Figgins, who stared at him critically.  
Blaine tried not to grumble or look insolent in any way, even though he was honestly nervous about his punishment.  
Principal Figgins might not dress or behave in an intimidating manner like the headmaster at Dalton but Blaine knew that if he told his father what he'd done, it would be one of the worst things ever for Blaine.  
"Please don't tell my dad," Blaine muttered after a long silence. "He's going to kill me."  
Figgins sighed, folding his hands over his desk. "Forgive me, Mr. Anderson, but I cannot let a violent act go unpunished.."  
"With all due respect," Blaine continued quietly, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "That kid called me a fairy. I was only defending myself."  
"That's still no excuse-"  
"I understand that, sir," Blaine interrupted as politely as he could. "And I'm willing to take any punishment you give me without question. Just.. please don't tell my parents. They've already been through enough and this won't happen again. I promise."  
Figgins examined Blaine for a moment longer before saying, "Alright, Mr. Anderson. I won't tell your parents, seeing as this is your first time here and you fought back in self defense.." He gave Blaine a skeptical look. "But you will have to go to detention for a week under the supervision of Coach Sylvester."  
"Thank you, sir." Blaine rose to his feet.  
"But next time, Mr. Anderson," Principal Figgins said before he could leave. "I won't be so lenient. Remember that."  
Blaine nodded, grateful to finally be getting out of there as the lunch bell rang.

He decided he couldn't stay on campus for a second longer without getting the urge to hit something, and that would only get him in more trouble so he settled for driving to a coffee shop halfway between Lima and Westerville called The Lima Bean.

Blaine ordered a medium drip at the counter, then stepped aside to let the next customer approach the cashier.  
His eyes wandered about the busy space, idly noticing that most of the people there at that hour were high school kids. One small party in particular got his attention.  
Rachel Berry was sitting at a table near the window with Mercedes from gym class and that snobby little cheerleader, Kurt Hummel.  
Blaine sighed. To his utter horror, Mercedes spotted him before he could escape to a table in the far back.  
"Blaine, baby!" she called, waving cheerfully. "Come sit with us."  
Picking up his drink, Blaine weaved his way through the line of tables to where the trio was sitting. He told himself he could at least be kind to the girls, ignoring the boy's steely stare.  
"Hi again," he said to Mercedes and Rachel.  
"Blaine, this is Kurt," Mercedes pointed to the boy with a muffin clutched in her hand.  
Blaine bit his lip. "I think we've met."  
Kurt raised his chin. "Yes, we have. You're the reason why Coach Sylvester forced me to hand-wash my uniform when I could've been practicing our Madonna routine."  
Rachel almost choked on her latte. Kurt turned his indignant glare on her for a second before turning back to Blaine.  
"Shouldn't you be hanging out with Puckerman or the rest of the deadbeats?"  
"Now, Kurt," Mercedes scolded gently. "Don't be rude. Blaine attended Dalton Academy. He's no deadbeat."  
"Didn't he get kicked out?"  
"Yeah and as a matter of fact," Blaine cut in, not liking Kurt's taunting tone any more than the rhinoceros brooch he was sporting. "If you knew the real reason why I got expelled, you wouldn't be so quick to judge."  
Blaine leaned across the table, fixing Kurt with his amber gaze. "We can't all be squeaky clean like you, princess. But this whole arrogant thing isn't making you any cuter."  
He winked.  
Rachel giggled uproariously, almost spilling her coffee and Mercedes patted Blaine's shoulder.  
"Well said, homeboy."  
"Oh my gosh," Rachel exclaimed. "Please tell me you've reconsidered auditioning!"  
Blaine leaned back in his chair, raising his cup of coffee to his lips.  
"Not really," he mumbled before taking a drink.  
Kurt, who had been fuming silently with his arms folded across his chest, turned to Rachel in evident shock. "Wait, what do you mean audition?"  
Rachel grinned. "Blaine here has a killer voice."  
"He does?" Mercedes asked with interest.  
"I doubt it," Kurt said, still not looking at Blaine.  
"What's the matter, princess? Afraid I might get in?" Blaine asked, despite himself. He enjoyed seeing Kurt's ego waver just a little bit.  
Kurt finally turned his eyes on Blaine, giving him a searing look and answering in a tone heavy with sarcasm. "Oh I doubt you can make it as a backup dancer, much less a singer in our group."  
"Kurt, he was with the Warblers," Mercedes felt the need to remind her friend, who was acting extremely immature at the moment.  
Kurt scoffed. "That doesn't prove he's any good. Those guys only do covers."  
"So?" Rachel demanded, sounding slightly offended.  
Blaine watched them argue with a mixture of annoyance and amusement for a moment longer before swallowing the last of his drink and setting his cup down on the table with an audible thump.  
"Okay," he said with a tight smile. "I'll audition and if my performance meets with the approval of your club, then you'll owe me an apology."  
Blaine knew an egomaniac when he saw one and this Kurt kid was definitely not used to handing out apology letters to his adoring peers. That's what made this childish game fun.  
"And if I don't get in," he continued, "I'll buy you coffee..or something to remove the stick that's shoved up your ass."  
Blaine's smile widened at the horrified look on Kurt's face. Those blue eyes were almost popping out of his skull and Rachel and Mercedes tried to stifle their laughter as Blaine stood up to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel and Mercedes led Blaine excitedly into the auditorium, both wearing matching smiles that alerted Mr. Shuester to the newcomer right away.  
"Ladies, what's going on? Hi, Kurt."  
"Hey," Kurt muttered as he walked ahead of Blaine and the girls, taking a seat next to Tina in one of the aisles facing the stage.  
"This is Blaine," Rachel announced, gesturing towards the young man proudly. "He's come to audition. I know for a fact that he has talent."  
Kurt scoffed loudly, making Tina glance at him in confusion.  
"Well, that's great!" Mr. Shue said with a huge grin on his face. "You're in my Spanish class, aren't you?" he asked Blaine.  
"Yeah, I am," Blaine responded, pulling off his messenger bag and setting it down on one of the seats.  
"Okay, well, take the stage then."  
Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine turned and started climbing up the short stairs to the dimly lit stage. Rachel and Mercedes sat down behind Mr. Shue. The rest of the New Directions watched with polite, though wary faces as Blaine whispered something to the piano man and then went to stand in the center of the stage.  
When the piano man began to play the opening notes of the song he'd selected, Blaine hadn't anticipated his stomach to twist nervously. It had been a long time seen he'd gotten butterflies from having to perform. Still, Blaine went ahead and opened his mouth.

_"Days like this I want to drive away,_  
_Pack my bags and watch your shadow fade_."

Santana and Brittany, sitting in the highest seats behind Mike and Tia, exchanged equal looks of fascination.

"_You chewed me up and spit me out _  
_Like I was poison in your mouth._  
_You took my light and drained me down_  
_But that was then and this is now, now look at me_."

Blaine continued in as clear a tone as he could muster, given that he was starting to see why he'd been so nervous a few moments ago..  
This song described his feelings perfectly about the past year.

_"This is the part of me that _  
_You're never gonna ever take away from me_  
_This is the part of me that_  
_You're never gonna ever take away from me, no._  
_Throw your sticks and stones, _  
_Throw your bombs and blows_  
_But you're not gonna break my soul._  
_This is the part of me that _  
_You're never gonna ever take away from me_."

Blaine sang the finishing lines as his heartbeat raced.  
Mr. Shue stood up at the end and clapped.  
"Blaine, I don't know what to say except.. welcome to the New Directions!"

A couple of the glee club members congratulated Blaine afterwards; mostly the girls. Artie, the boy in the wheelchair rolled down the aisles to shake his hand and the Asian boy who Blaine found out was named Mike also complimented his performance. Sam, the blond football player, Finn, the quarterback and Puckerman, however seemed a bit intimidated by Blaine and only gave him noncommittal nods, or in Puck's case; a cold glare, before heading out the door.  
"Hey," Blaine called out to Mike before he could exit with his girlfriend, Tina. "Thanks for.. you know, before in the locker room."  
Mike gave him a tiny grin as Tina glanced up at Mike with a question in her eyes. "No problem, dude."  
Just as Mike and Tina walked out, Rachel ran up to Blaine, clasping a hand around his forearm.  
"I knew you would nail it!" she squealed. "I can spot brilliance from a mile away."  
"Thank you, Rachel," Blaine said awkwardly, gently extracting his arm from her grip.  
She didn't look unfazed at all, though, and just continued rambling. "So we should totally do a duet together, don't you agree? Our voices are so clear and strong and indisputably beautiful.. Just email me a list of songs you think would showcase our talent, though I am more theater than top 40s-"  
"Uhh, that sounds fun, Rachel," Blaine interrupted as he caught sight of Kurt glaring at them both from the open doorway. "But I have to go now." He didn't want to let the part-time Cheerio get away so easily.  
"Kurt, hold up!"  
Kurt stopped and clutched his leather briefcase tightly against his side as if he were afraid Blaine would snatch it.  
Blaine pressed his lips in a firm line but made his voice sound cordial, nonetheless. "Don't be a sore loser. I'm not trying to steal your glee club. And I was just kidding about the bet."  
Kurt raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and asked coldly, "Oh were you kidding about the stick up my ass too?"  
Blaine couldn't help but chuckle. "No, actually."  
"Piss off!" Kurt snapped, turning away.  
"Hey, hold on a minute." Blaine made a grab for his arm before he could walk away.  
Kurt flinched at the contact and Blaine dropped his hand immediately. In the back of his mind, he wondered why he even wanted an apology from Kurt. Obviously, it didn't matter. He'd had people dislike him before; granted it was in junior high when he'd just come out, but still.. He knew that selfish people weren't worth his time.  
"Why are you still pissed about the uniform?" He asked Kurt with genuine curiosity. "Is it that big a deal? I apologized, you cleaned it up. Why do you keep using that as an excuse to hate me?"  
Kurt's jaw locked. He didn't reply so Blaine continued, "And I'm not trying to outshine you. I did my thing with the Warblers. It's done. I'm happy standing in the background."  
Kurt let out a sarcastic laugh. "I don't think Shuester is going to put you in the back. Rachel has already claimed you as her new duet partner."  
"Okay," Blaine said slowly. "But that doesn't mean I'm going accept."  
Kurt gave him an incredulous look. "You would turn down the chance to stand front and center?"  
Blaine shrugged. "Like I said, been there, done that."  
Kurt raised his chin, his eyes scoping down Blaine's form before he turned around wordlessly and heading for the parking lot.  
Blaine shook his head, watching him go.  
"_Definitely a waste of my time_," he decided internally.

Unfortunately for Blaine, Kurt's prediction came true and the glee club director, Mr. Shuester, didn't keep Blaine in the back during performances throughout that week.  
Rachel and Blaine were assigned a duet the day after his audition, and though it was just in the choir room with only the other members to witness it, Blaine fel Kurt's critical stare on him the entire time; the silent phrase "I told you so" hanging in the air between them.  
Another person who seemed unhappy about Blaine's duet with Rachel was Rachel's boyfriend, Finn Hudson the quarterback. On more than one occasion, Blaine caught the taller boy giving him mild versions of Puck's death glare.  
Blaine decided to just ignore Finn, as he didn't see any need for a confrontation. In Puck's case, however, he thought he'd put it all on the table before Puck decided to give him a physical warning about not stealing his reputation.

Detention bought Blaine the perfect opportunity to do that as he walked into the assigned classroom and saw the grim-faced guy with the Mohawk sitting in one of the middle desks. Coach Sylvester stood at the front of the room, instructing a red-headed kid to write "I will not smoke pot till I'm ninety-five" on the chalkboard.  
The kid glanced up at the striking woman with a pained look on his face.  
"Can I please stop, ma'am? My hand's cramping."  
Coach Sylvester didn't even bat an eyelash. "You will write one hundred times, stoner Brett, old school style!" she practically yelled.  
Blaine decided to skip introductions and merely wandered over to a desk behind Puckerman.  
"Don't think I didn't see you sneak past me, hair gel," Coach Sylvester exclaimed as Blaine sat down and dug out his homework. "You get to doing something productive or I'm hauling your ass back to private school, you hear?"  
"Yes, ma'am!" Blaine responded instantly, letting a hint of surprise color his tone. He didn't expect the detention monitor to be so brazen.  
He flipped through his history textbook for awhile before reaching over and tapping Puck on the shoulder.  
The bigger boy's head snapped around and the glare he gave Blaine was pure black. "You have a death wish, punk?" Puckerman hissed. "Touch me again and I'll throw you out one of these windows."  
Blaine swallowed when he saw the threat plain in Puck's eyes, even as cliché as it was, and replied in a leveled whisper, "I just need to borrow a pencil."  
Puck remained unshaken. "Yeah, well, if I had one, I'd jam it in your eye, loser."  
Before he could turn back around, Blaine asked, "Did I do something, dude? Or are you just into targeting people for no reason? Are you the typical bully?"  
"Dude, no. You're the one coming here, thinking you can own this place or something just 'cause you went to some private school and smoked some weed."  
Blaine didn't expect Puckerman to say so much, let alone explain his rage.  
"Umm, you've got it all wrong," he began. "I'm not trying to steal your friends or anything, okay? I'm just trying to start over."  
Puck leaned back in his seat, slowly taking in Blaine's sincere tone and calm expression, as if evaluating whether it was real or not. He'd come across some fakes in his day, especially in juvie; guys who pretended to make nice seconds before they jumped you. But Puck doubted Blaine was that type, given his size, though he had heard something about a "fight club" at this Dalton place. Nonetheless, Puck decided to give the junior a break since it was only the second week of class and he and Quinn weren't together anymore so he had no reason to get all caveman jealous anyway.  
"Okay, man," Puck said, eying Blaine carefully. "But just so you know, I'm legendary in these halls. Nobody can top my bad-assery and live to talk about it!"  
Blaine bit back a chuckle and held out his fist. "Gotcha."  
Puck bumped his fist against Blaine's, then ducked his head as Coach Sylvester came to stand near their desks.  
"Why, isn't this sweet?" the blond woman said in a patronizing voice. "We've got a little bromance going on." She peered down at Puck and Blaine with mocking blue eyes. "Why don't you two luckless ladies stop flirting and finish your homework?"

Blaine was heading home after his detention on Thursday when he heard a scuffling noise coming from a corner of the hall just opposite his locker.  
Grabbing his history book and slipping it in his messenger bag, Blaine quietly wandered over to the stairs.  
"Not so fast, lady.."Blaine paused when he heard a masculine voice saying lowly from very nearby. "Give me a chance to cop a feel."  
He rolled his eyes, thinking he'd just walked into some students making out, but then another voice said, "Stop it, Karofsky!" Blaine rounded the corner, recognized the soprano voice immediately.  
He rounded the corner and saw two boys standing under the staircase. Kurt Hummel was clutching a binder to his chest and looking at Blaine with wide eyes. Across from him, a burly boy in a football jacket was sneering.  
"Who the hell are you?" the bigger boy demanded, turning his head to face Blaine.  
Instead of answering, Blaine just stared at Kurt. "What's going on?" he asked, steadily.  
Kurt stuttered, surprising Blaine even more. "N-nothing. I was just going home."  
"Ooh I see," the heavyset jock said suddenly. "Kurt, you should've told you had a boyfriend."  
Kurt wordlessly pulled his face into an emotionless mask and started walking away. The jock reached out and shoved him as he brushed past.  
Blaine lunged for the jock, even though he was twice his size and thick as a pro wrestler.  
"Get off him!" Blaine shouted before the jock shoved him back hard against the white concrete wall opposite the stairs.  
"You idiot," the jock sneered in his face. "I can pound you into kibble with just one punch."  
Blaine's glare didn't drop, however. He was itching to run after Kurt, see if he was alright.  
"Kurt better get himself a sturdier boyfriend," the jock laughed before stepping away from Blaine and turning towards the back exit.  
As soon as he was gone, Blaine took off running down the opposite end of the hall.

The bright sun almost blinded him as he descended the short steps in front of the double doors. His eyes scanned the parking lot for Kurt.  
There were only a few cars left, mostly faculty, so he soon caught sight of the brown-haired boy in the canary yellow coat making his way over to a dark Navigator.  
"Kurt, wait!"  
Blaine saw Kurt opened the driver's side door and he quickened his pace, almost panting as he sprinted to reach him before he drove off.  
"Kurt.." Blaine breathed, resting a hand against the side of the car as he peered over at the boy sitting in the front seat.  
Kurt still held the door open but glanced back at him with a suspicious look on his face.  
"What do you want?" he demanded, his voice filled with irritation and something else.. embarrassment, maybe.  
Blaine cocked his head. "Are you okay? What was that guy doing?"  
"Nothing," Kurt snapped, turning his gaze away and glaring out the windshield.  
"Come on, Kurt," Blaine softened his tone, leaning over so he could try to catch Kurt's eye again. "That didn't look like nothing. You can tell me."  
"You don't know anything."  
"Hey," Blaine moved his hand to rest on the back of Kurt's seat. Kurt still refused to look at him as he said, "I was pushed around too at my old school. You can tell me."  
He watched Kurt's jaw tighten and his lips press in a firm line. Kurt's eyes were so clear, Blaine thought they were almost transparent. He wondered why he was being so nice to this kid. But then, not even an annoying little snob like Kurt deserved to get bullied, Blaine decided.  
"Do you.." he hesitated before asking, "Do you want to go somewhere?"  
"_Perhaps he doesn't feel safe here_," Blaine mused to himself, seeing how Kurt bit down on his bottom lip hard.  
He laid a hand on his shoulder.  
"Don't touch me!" the other boy exploded, jerking in his seat, acting as if he'd just noticed how close Blaine was to him.  
"I'm sorry," Blaine backed away immediately. "I just want to help."  
"Well, I'm not going anywhere with you. Why don't you just mind your own business?"  
Kurt slammed the car door shut and pulled out of the parking space so fast, Blaine barely had time to get out of the way.


	5. Chapter 5

*sigh* sorry it took longer than usual, guys. I had projects to complete for school and just stressful crap. anyway, hope you like it :)

* * *

Saturday came as a relief to Blaine because he got to hang out with Wes and David at David's house.

The boys played video games for awhile in the cozy family den, then raided Mrs. Lance's refrigerator, making heaping sandwiches out of leftovers from the roast beef dinner she'd made the night before.

"Dude, be sure to tell your mom I still think she's the best cook in Ohio," Blaine mumbled between mouthfuls of his sandwich.

David rolled his eyes. "If you feel that way, man, why don't you just come live with us?"

"Aww but then you won't be the favorite child anymore!" Wes joked.

David threw a slice of tomato at him from across the kitchen island.

"So how are the Warblers?" Blaine asked casually. He felt sort of weird now that he was in the New Directions, inquiring about another team, even if it had been his former one. He didn't want his friends thinking he was trying to spy on them.

"We're cool, you know," David replied calmly. "Just prepping for sectionals."

Blaine chewed on his bottom lip. "I have to tell you something."

Wes and David shared a look. It bordered on anxious.

"No, guys, nothing like that!" Blaine exclaimed, realizing what they might've been imagining; drugs or a fight or another Sebastian-esque situation. "I joined the New Directions."

Wes and David were quiet for a moment before Wes said, "Seriously? I thought you said you.. didn't want to sing anymore."

Blaine sighed. "It was sort of a spur of the moment thing," he confessed, staring down at his sandwich with an embarrassed expression. "I made a bet with this kid who was irritating me.."

David chuckled. "Well, he must've done a real number on you if you actually auditioned."

Blaine shrugged. For some reason, he remembered the wide-eyed frightened look on Kurt Hummel's face when he'd found him and that jock under the stairs the other day. Blaine found the mental image disturbing.

"Turns out I kinda miss singing," he murmured.

"Hey, man, that's cool," David exclaimed. "We're still your friends, although it will get kinda awkward when we have to compete against each other but-"

Blaine raised his head, giving Wes and David a quizzical look. "Wait, so you don't care?"

"No, I mean, they're not giving you a hard time, are they?" Wes asked. "The New Directions?"

Blaine sighed with a mixture of relief and irritation. "Most are cool. But I have a few members on my bad side. One is the school's quarterback."

Wes laughed. "Ouch! Well, maybe you should hang low for awhile."

"Hey, no, Wes," David spoke up, curling his hands into fists and pretending to box. "Blaine can totally stand up to those rednecks! He's a fight club graduate."

Blaine rolled his eyes. He was reluctant to tell them about the size of the football player who had been terrorizing Kurt. "The other kid who's not so happy about me joining his club is a Cheerio."

A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Blaine's lips.

"What the hell is a Cheerio?" David asked.

Wes looked at him like he was dim. "Don't you know anything? The Cheerios are McKinley High's cheerleading team." Pausing mid sentence, Wes asked Blaine, "Wait. There's a boy on the cheer team?"

Blaine nodded, still grinning. "Kurt's the only boy."

David still looked confused. "So.. what does he wear?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Pants, David!"

"Obviously," Wes muttered, staring at David with contempt.

David exhaled sharply. "Well, I don't know! I've never seen a male cheerleader before. Cut me some slack."

"And this cheerleader doesn't like you much?" Wes questioned Blaine with genuine interest. At Dalton, Blaine was always so charismatic and charming, it was hard to imagine anyone not liking him.

Blaine chuckled. "That's putting it lightly." He related to David and Wes the details of his first meeting with Kurt.

"Wow, Blaine!" David guffawed. "Spilling soda on some guy's shirt? Not your best moment."

"But why would he still be mad about that?" Wes wondered aloud.

Blaine finished the last bite of his sandwich and pushed his plate aside. "It's not just that. I get the feeling he's used to fighting for attention with Rachel, that's the lead soloist, and so now he feels threatened, like he's going to lose the spotlight again."

"Ah.." Wes mused. "I'm guessing he's gay."

David shot Wes a disapproving glance. "Don't go stereotyping."

"I'm not, but come on, David, it's Lima, Ohio. That's hick town. And the dude is a male cheerleader."

"He also has an obnoxious fashion sense," Blaine supplied, remembering Kurt's attire at the Lima Bean. "The other day he was wearing a rhinoceros brooch and a vest."

Wes raised an eyebrow at David. "See?"

"Whatever," David muttered before asking Blaine, "Does he know you're.. the same?"

Blaine glanced away. "Trust me, we're not the same."

"Well, you don't have to worry about us," Wes stated. "We've got your back, even when you're on an opposing team."

Blaine smiled simply. "You guys are the bestest."

"Aww! Give your best friend a hug." David stretched his arms out.

"I think I'll pass." Blaine stood up to take his dirty plate to the sink.

"And besides," Wes said matter-of-factly. "I'm his best friend."

"Nuh-uh!" David lunged at Wes, tackling him to the linoleum floor. "I'm Blaine's bestie for life, dude."

"In your dreams, Lance."

Blaine watched the two boys mock wrestle with an amused smile and almost missed the light vibration in his pocket. It was his phone. Pulling it out, he saw that it was his mother calling.

"Hey, Mom, what's up?"

"Are you still at David's?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need you to come home."

"But we were going to a movie and his mom invited me to stay for dinner-" Blaine began to protest.

"No, Blaine, I want you here for dinner."

Sighing heavily, Blaine mumbled, "Fine," and hung up.

Wes and David looked up from the floor. "What's up, man?" David inquired, his arm still locked around Wes's neck.

"I gotta go," Blaine answered reluctantly.

When Blaine got home that afternoon, he found an unfamiliar Mercedes Benz in the driveway. Slowly, he made his way into the house with trepidation, thinking he was in no mood for a dinner with one of his dad's clients or one of his old classmates' parents from Dalton, come to see what he was up to now that he'd gotten expelled..

But when he rounded the corner of the hallway that led to the living room, Blaine found instead a very recognizable person sitting next to his mother on the sofa, facing the television.

His brother, Cooper, turned his eyes away from the news anchor on the screen and gave Blaine a charismatic smile that he knew could win just about anyone over.

Blaine, however, could only muster up enough emotion to feel stunned.

"Coop."

"Blainey!"

Blaine winced as his older brother stood up and walked over to him, enveloping him in a tight embrace. He always hated the nicknames Cooper invented for him and for some reason, he felt the hugs he gave him were also fake.

But he tried to act cheerful for the sake of his mother who was smiling at them from the sofa.

"I.. thought you were coming for Thanksgiving," Blaine told Cooper awkwardly.

Cooper ruffled Blaine's gelled hair and Blaine worked to keep the annoyance off his face. "I know, buddy, but I had a break between shooting so I figured, why not surprise the family?" Cooper lowered his voice before adding, "And besides, I'm not entirely sure I'll be here for Thanksgiving. I might be getting a call to star in CSI, isn't that great?"

"So great," Blaine exclaimed with very little enthusiasm. He could tell Cooper would start bragging about his acting jobs really soon.

When his dad came home, Blaine's family gathered in the rarely used dining room, partaking of a fried chicken steak dinner that happened to be

Cooper's favorite.

Blaine found himself picking at his food and trying to float away from that stifling family scene.

"Hey, buddy, how's it going at your new school?" Cooper asked suddenly, giving Blaine a light punch on the shoulder.

Blaine suppressed a sigh. "It's cool," he muttered, staring down at his meat.

"Yeah?" Cooper continued, grinning widely. "Met any interesting people yet?"

Blaine raised his head, glaring at his brother as he winked at him. Blaine could tell that Cooper was insinuating whether he'd met any "interesting" boys lately, and that was a question he really did not want to answer at the moment, especially when their father was casting him dark disapproving looks from across the table. Cooper's question was only making it worse.

"Blaine has to focus on catching up with his peers academically," Mr. Anderson said gruffly.

"Catching up? Dad, it's public school," Cooper remarked. "Blaine went to Dalton! He's way ahead of everyone at McKinley."

Mr. Anderson didn't sound convinced when he replied, "Well, he missed a lot of studying when he was in the rehabilitation program."

Blaine couldn't help blushing fiercely. As much as it pained him to admit it, Blaine muttered, "Cooper's right, Dad. I'm already getting straight A's. Even my Spanish is more advanced than Mr. Shuester's."

His father, though, only fixed him with another disapproving stare. "Well, that you owe it to your grandmother Rebecca's heritage, not your studying."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Not entirely, Dad. Daniel Choi who was in Warblers with me couldn't speak Korean to save his life and he wasn't even born here."

Cooper, who had been quietly munching on his chicken and glancing back and forth between his father and younger brother, finally decided to say what was on his mind. "I think Blaine is trying. You should give him more credit."

Both Mr. Anderson and Blaine fell quiet as they were both a little stunned that Cooper, who was usually so self-absorbed, had chosen to stick up for Blaine at thelast minute.

Mrs. Anderson picked up the conversation then, changing the topic to her interior design projects and Cooper cheerfully joined in. Blaine and his father finished the rest of the meal in silence.

"Thanks for sticking up for me," Blaine reluctantly told Cooper after dinner when they were both sitting in front of the TV. Their mother was clearing the table and their dad had disappeared into his office across from the living room.

For a moment, Cooper's brow furrowed in confusion. Then, seeming to comprehend, he waved the remote control in his hand in a flippant manner and said, "Oh, dude, no worries. Dad's just like that sometimes, you know? He's a hard-ass when it comes to his boys' futures and whatnot."

Blaine sighed quietly, looking away from Cooper's bright blue eyes and energetic smile. Cooper didn't understand. Their dad was a lot harder on Blaine than he'd ever been with Cooper. And it wasn't just recently, due to his expulsion. This quiet resentment had begun way back in middle school when Blaine had come out.. Perhaps even earlier, when Mr. Anderson realized that Blaine wasn't like other boys. Even though he enjoyed football and wrestling and stereotypically masculine things, Mr. Anderson had probably known somewhere in the back of his mind that there was something different about Blaine.

Cooper, on the other hand, had turned out just like he wanted; an actor in L.A. Even if he only did commercials and small appearances in a few TV shows like CSI and Suits, Blaine was sure his older brother was talented enough to land a larger role.

"I always disappoint him, Coop," Blaine explained now, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "You never do."

"That's not true, Blaine," Cooper said immediately, but Blaine just raised his head and said, "Yes, it is. We both know it. Even before I started going to parties and fooling around, he was never happy with me. I'm not even sure that I ever made him proud."

Seeing his brother like this was a whole new experience for Cooper. He had always been much more of a showman than Blaine, even when they were kids, but Cooper had always known, without a doubt, that little Blaine had major talent. Not only did he have an extraordinary voice, but Blaine also had this special kind of charm that seemed to come so naturally. On more than one occasion, Cooper had seen Blaine win over people with just one conversation. Now, however, he was shocked to see how his brother seemed so devoid of confidence.

Could he be right about their dad? Was Mr. Anderson truly casting Blaine aside?

Cooper chewed on the inside of his mouth as he mulled over this disturbing possibility. "I could keep talking to him, you know.." he trailed off helplessly.

Blaine shook his head, cracking a weak smile. "No, it's alright. I think you've already tried tonight. So no worries." He repeated what Cooper had told him earlier, reaching across the couch and squeezing his older brother's arm in a rare show of affection.

The gesture made Cooper's face break out in a wide smile and he exclaimed, "Hey, how about some backyard football?"

Blaine laughed, standing. "Alright. But be warned, I'm a lot faster now and you've been off you're game."

"Oh we'll see about that," Cooper replied, turning off the TV and flinging an arm around Blaine's shoulder.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Anderson came out of the kitchen with a dishrag slung over one arm and peered out one of the windows facing the dusk-filled yard where her two sons were running around, tossing a football. She smiled a sad, nostalgic grin, thinking that she hadn't seen them act so happy in years.

Cooper's flight back to L.A was scheduled for Monday evening but he'd driven Blaine to school and promised to pick him up at four o'clock so they could catch a movie before he left.

Having woken up earlier than usual that morning to get breakfast with Cooper at McDonalds, Blaine had brought his guitar along so he'd have something to pass the time with before his first class started.

"So I'll swing by later this afternoon, okay?" Cooper declared as they pulled in front the McKinley.

Blaine nodded. "Sure." He saw Cooper staring appreciatively at the acoustic guitar sitting on the floor in front of his seat.

"Still working on your music, I see.."

Blaine shrugged. "I am writing a new song.. Trying, anyway."

"That's cool, Blaine," Cooper twisted around in the driver's seat, looking him in the eye and saying, "I think you shouldn't give up on that. You're a creative guy and you should give people a chance to find out extraodinary you are."

Caught off guard by the genuine encouragement in his brother's voice, Blaine mumbled, "Umm.. Thanks."

"No problem, squirt." Cooper gave him a pat on the shoulder before unlocking the passenger door. "I'll see you soon."

"Alright." Blaine got out of the car and waved as Cooper pulled out of the lot.

Blaine turned towards the steps in front of the school's double doors.

Setting his messenger bag down, he cradled his guitar in his lap and strummed the first chords of the original song he was working on.

The song reminded him of Sebastian a lot, especially the beginning. But Blaine didn't want to think about his ex-boyfriend. And he felt that perhaps he had given up a long time ago.

_"You had your pick of any _

_Naïve dreamer you wanted,_

_I guess I was unlucky to be_

_The one you chose to draw in_

_And leave, strung up on a power line_

_In the middle of October with_

_No warmth or way of breaking free._

_Sing out now, baby, I've disappeared._

_Where are we now? _

_You were wishing _

_For an alibi that_

_I could never give._

_After school promises,_

_Grass stains on backpacks_

_And notebooks soaked _

_In milk and vodka,_

_You were a one night_

_Stand that turned into_

_Two years of manipulation_

_And misguided electronic letters."_

"That sounds really good."

Startled, Blaine's hand slipped and he caught the guitar before it could hit the pavement.

Raising his head, he saw Kurt standing in front of him on the lower steps, shielding his eyes with one hand against the glaring seven-thirty sun.

"Thanks.." Blaine shrugged. "It's something I've been working on."

Kurt nodded and slowly climbed up to where Blaine was sitting. He took his navy pea coat off and set it down on the stairs so he could sit on top of it.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Afraid of getting your designer jeans dirty?"

Kurt rolled his eyes but patted a hand on the coat underneath him affectionately. "It's last season but it's so comfy, I can't bear to part with it."

Blaine allowed a small smile. He didn't know what it was that made this kid so fascinating when he wasn't being blatantly irritating..

Perhaps it was because he was so different from everyone else he'd seen at McKinley.

"So why are you here so early?" Blaine asked nonchalantly.

Kurt picked absently at the seam on his maroon sweater. "I'm just not in the mood to deal with the traffic of obnoxious students this morning."

"I see," Blaine mumbled, casting his gaze around the parking lot. He knew people would start arriving soon, even though right then there were only a few cars in the staff parking area.

He heard Kurt sigh abruptly. "Also," the brunette said, looking down at his hands, which he had interlaced on top of his knees. "I wanted to apologize for the other day."

Blaine's eyes widened.

"It was rude of me," Kurt continued, still not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I guess you were actually trying to help.."

"Yeah, I was," Blaine assured. He didn't know why Kurt was suddenly feeling the need to be polite but he sure as hell wasn't taking it for granted. God knows, he needed that after the weekend he'd had with his dad.

Kurt lifted his head, looking at Blaine, carefully. Blaine stared back for a second longer before reaching over and giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "Don't worry about it," he stated. "We're cool."

Kurt grinned shyly.

"I do have one question, though," Blaine said before he could let Kurt get too comfortable. He was still pondering what had brought on this random apology. "Do you really dislike me or is that just a show?"

Kurt scowled. "A show? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on." Blaine fixed him with an incredulous look. "You're on the cheer team, right? You're popular. I'm guessing it only makes you cooler to rag on the new kid. Especially when the new kid has a reputation like mine."

Kurt's mouth popped open in a comical O. Blaine resisted the urge to laugh.

"You've got it all wrong," Kurt exclaimed. "You think I'm the bully?"

"I didn't say that-"

"But that's what you were thinking. Didn't you see what Karofsky was doing to me the other day?"

Blaine frowned. "Karofsky?"

Kurt sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. "That big chubby jock who was standing under the staircase-"

"Oh right," Blaine interrupted to let Kurt know he remembered. "No, I- I know he was terrorizing you." For some reason, it was hard for Blaine to admit that. It sounded so wrong, the idea that somebody had been threatening Kurt..

"Well, he's just one in the long line of jocks at this school who have me on their bitch list," Kurt explained fervently. "It's not just the jocks, though. I'm always being called queer and other degrading things by the hockey team and some other random people.." His voice trailed off and for a moment, both boys sat in silence.

Then Kurt murmured softly, "That's why I joined the cheer squad. Coach Sylvester is a tyrant too but at least she doesn't let anyone mess with her Cheerios."

"But you said-"

"I still get crap because I'm gay."

Blaine bit his lip and looked at Kurt. Everything he was saying would've been difficult to believe if Blaine hadn't experienced discrimination himself

at the school he attended before Dalton.

But still..

Kurt was cute and outgoing and a cheerleader, for crying out loud! Blaine hadn't heard him sing yet, but he was pretty sure, judging from Kurt's speaking voice, that he was uniquely gifted there as well. Blaine still couldn't understand why people in small towns had to make such a big deal out of something so natural.

"I..umm," Blaine began, not knowing how to offer his assistance, given their rocky start. "If Karofsky comes after you again, you can tell me and I'll-"

"What?" Kurt asked quietly. "No one cares, Blaine."

"The principal-"

"Is just as clueless as the rest of the staff," Kurt interrupted, turning his face away so Blaine couldn't see the frustration in his eyes.

"You've never told anyone," Blaine realized.

Kurt sighed. "I have but everything is still the same."

He suddenly scrambled to his feet. "Come on, it's almost eight o'clock. We'd better get inside before the stampede begins."

While they'd been talking, students had begun to arrive and the parking lot was quickly filling with cars.

Blaine picked up Kurt's coat as he stood, holding it out to the boy who took it quickly.

"Thanks," Kurt said. "I believe I still owe you that coffee."

Blaine's face broke out in an unexpected grin. "I believe you do."

To his surprise, Kurt's cheeks turned a bright rosy. "Do you want to go to the Lima Bean during lunch?"

"Definitely."

The two boys headed into the building as other teenagers piled up the stairs behind them.

Kurt sat across from Blaine at the Lima Bean later that day, sipping his low-fat mocha daintily and scrutinizing Blaine's casual ensemble with a mercilessly critical eye.

"Don't look at me like that," Blaine warned, catching on to the other boy's disapproval. "If I had to bother about being fashionable and all that crap, I'd be even more stressed out than I am now." After a pause, he ripped a packet of sugar open and muttered, "And that's something I do not need."

Kurt scowled. "Fashion isn't crap. And why are you stressed out?"

Stirring the sugar in his medium drip, Blaine answering slowly. "Hmm.. Let's see. My dad rarely talks to me except to criticize something I did or let me know how much I suck, I recently got detention for fighting, and there's this guy in glee club who keeps giving me the death stare."

Kurt swallowed a sip of his latte and looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll stop doing that, now that I know you're somewhat decent."

Blaine laughed. "How do you I was talking about you?"

He was surprised to see Kurt looking genuinely confused. "Everyone else thinks you're awesome. I even heard Rachel say you make Jesse St. James look like the worst singer on American Idol."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Rachel gets carried away.."

"That's putting it lightly," Kurt remarked. After a moment, he asked, "So who are you referring to, exactly?"

Blaine sighed. "Finn. And before that it was Puck, but we sorted that out in detention." He grinned at the awkward memory. "Basically, he was just worried I would steal his badass reputation."

Kurt chuckled. "More like he was worried you'd steal his one night stands."

Blaine shook his head in disbelief. "Then I should've mentioned that I'm gay. That would've probably put Puck more at ease."

It was then that Blaine noticed Kurt gawking at him from across the tiny round table.

"What?" he demanded in a leveled tone.

Kurt's aquamarine eyes were huge. "You're gay?"

Blaine nodded, his stomach twisting nervously. He definitely didn't feel the need to parade his sexuality around when he was already getting crap from other students at school, but he wasn't ashamed of it either.. not by any means.

"You look shocked," he commented, observing Kurt's reaction closely. "I'm not afraid of people knowing but I'd rather not make such a big deal."

"Oh," Kurt cleared his throat, rearranging his face in a polite expression quickly. "I understand completely. I.. I won't shout it around school or anything."

He smiled a bit awkwardly, his cheeks flaming red.

Blaine wondered if Kurt was worried he might threaten him or something. "I won't go after you if you do tell your friends," he told Kurt carefully. "I'd just rather you didn't spread any rumors. There's enough of that going around and it wouldn't be fair, considering how I stood up for you the other day with Karofsky."

Kurt dropped his gaze and nodded. "Sure thing. It wouldn't be fair at all," he agreed.

Blaine finished his drink and Kurt picked absently at his muffin.

Kurt finally lifted his head and peered at Blaine timidly. "Are any of those rumors true, though?" he asked in a voice that almost sounded scared.

Blaine bit back a smirk. "_What had this kid heard about me?_" he wondered. "Not really," he replied cryptically. It could be fun, he realized, to play with Kurt's knowledge of his past.

"So.." Kurt prolonged the moment before asking, "You didn't take drugs?"

"I did," Blaine answered bluntly. That was the main thing people had been saying about him and there was no point denying it. What he wasn't interested in telling Kurt was why exactly he'd taken drugs in the first place. No one needed to know that detail.

"I don't anymore, though," he clarified, catching the way Kurt looked uncomfortable by his confession. "I saw a doctor and got clean."

"Oh."

"Lots of people don't," Blaine pointed out.

"Oh I know," Kurt said hurriedly. "That's good, that you got clean.. Especially, you know, at our age.." He trailed off, avoiding eye contact with Blaine but Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't judging him. On some weird level, he knew that.

"We should probably get back," Blaine said, glancing at the clock on the wall above the coffee bar.

Kurt followed his gaze and quickly gathered his things. "Yeah, we should."

On their way out, Blaine held the door open for the blue-eyed boy and Kurt gave him a soft smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Declaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.

* * *

"Hey, Blaine."  
Kurt smiled at the dark-haired boy from across the hall on Tuesday.  
Blaine, turning from where he was standing near his locker, gave Kurt a one-sided grin, but had little time to do anything else before a flash of bright red blurred his vision. A sudden splash of ice hit his face and all he could do was gasp as his body shook at the piercing chill.  
When he could finally see through a crack in the red, Blaine caught the image of two jocks walking away, snickering.  
"Loser!" one called over his bulky shoulder.  
"Glee club loser," his partner added.  
Blaine just shivered, shell-shocked.  
Kurt's voice sounded very close when he shrieked,"Blaine!"  
He appeared next to him, his pale hands brushing away some of the bigger pieces of ice stuck to Blaine's cheek.  
"Kurt, what-" Blaine began, but Kurt locked a hand around his arm, pulling him in the direction of the restrooms. "Let's get you cleaned up."  
For some reason unknown to Blaine, Kurt led him into the girls' restroom instead of the boys'.  
"Okay, here we go," he said, unzipping his messenger bag and pulling out a packet of what looked like towelettes. Kurt began wiping off the residual red dye number 7 from Blaine's face while he stared at their reflections in the mirror.  
"Umm why are we in the girls' room?" Blaine pondered out loud.  
"Because it's better equipped with bigger mirrors and decent-smelling soap," Kurt responded, matter-of-factly.  
Blaine watched him quietly and was surprised to see Kurt suddenly blush.  
"You have a nice complexion," Kurt murmured after a beat of silence. "Pretty skin tone."  
Blaine smirked, amused by Kurt's choice of words. "Thanks," he said. "My grandmother on my mom's side is Italian."  
Kurt hummed. "Cool. Do you know any Italian?"  
"Yeah, actually. I've been speaking both Italian and Spanish since I was a kid." Blaine could tell Kurt hadn't expected this answer and he felt slightly smug, seeing how Kurt's thin eyebrows shot up high on his forehead.  
"Wow.. You must be so bored taking Spanish here at McKinley."  
Blaine smiled. "It's not so bad."  
He caught Kurt's eye then and Kurt's hand paused against his cheek.  
Slowly, Blaine reached up and brought it down. "I think-"  
Before he could finish his sentence, they both heard the bell ring. Blaine dropped his hand.  
"Let's go," Kurt said, fumbling with his bag. "We'll be late for lunch."  
As they stepped out of the restroom, Kurt added, "Not that I care. I mean, the only thing close to a healthy meal here is a tuna salad."  
But Blaine grinned as he followed Kurt down the hallway.

He would've typically avoided the noise and disorderliness of the cafeteria, but for some reason, Blaine felt that if he ditched Kurt to go have lunch with Quinn under the bleachers, he'd be erasing all the progress he'd made trying to smooth things over with the blue-eyed boy.  
He didn't know for sure why he cared about this, but it was too late now to turn around as Kurt led him to the crazy long lunch line.  
"By the time we get to the front, lunch period will be over," Blaine muttered as he stood behind Kurt, who promptly passed him a plastic tray.  
The corner of Kurt's mouth turned up in a small grin but he said nothing, just piled what looked like a mountain of lettuce onto a plate and set it on his tray.  
When both boys were finally done filling their trays with the most decent food they found available, (in Blaine's case; tater tots, turkey and glazed carrots), they quickly paid for their lunch and walked over to a table at the far back of the crowded cafeteria where some members of New Directions were sitting.  
Blaine immediately spotted Rachel Berry, Mercedes Jones, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang and her boyfriend, Mike Chang, Puckerman and Sam Evans. Finn Hudson and the cheerleaders, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce hadn't joined them.  
Blaine craned his head, his eyes sweeping over the cafeteria until he finally located a table mostly occupied by jocks in letterman jackets. A few feet away by a window, Santana and Brittany were comfortably chatting over identical plates of salad.  
"Why isn't Finn sitting here?" Blaine asked Kurt in a low voice as they neared the table occupied by Kurt's friends.  
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Finn sometimes has popularity issues and Santana and Brittany are just fickle."  
Blaine didn't think he understood the last part but he merely sat down next to Sam as Kurt sat on his other side across from Mercedes.  
"Aren't you on the football team?" Blaine asked Sam.  
The blond looked up from his heaping cheeseburger. "Yeah, so?"  
Blaine shrugged, trying not to make his tone sound judgmental in any way. "Why aren't you sitting with the team?"  
Sam answered flippantly, "Oh, dude, those guys can be kinda close-minded sometimes."  
"Sometimes?" Kurt challenged, cocking an eyebrow.  
Puckerman spoke up then. "Yeah, and I'm here 'cause Wheels and I have some epic pranks to plan." He bumped Artie on the shoulder.  
Blaine nodded slowly, thinking it strange that none of Kurt's friends seemed to be sticking up for him regarding the bullying he was experiencing, despite most of them being on the football team. Weren't they concerned at all that some homophobic jock was shoving their friend into lockers and terrorizing him under the stairs?  
"What the hell?" Blaine wondered when he happened to catch Finn's eye from across the sea of tables and saw the quarterback giving him a look of blatant disgust.

"Guys," Mr. Shuester addressed the glee club later that afternoon. "We have to start coming up with song selections for Sectionals."  
Rachel immediately raised her hand. "Mr. Shue, I think Blaine and I should-"  
"Oh pipe down, Lolita," Santana interrupted irritably. "Let someone else choose a song for once."  
"Yeah, Rachel," Mercedes spoke up, craning her head around to look at Rachel. "You are like a mini dictator in this group and I'm sick of it. Can't you put aside your selfishness just once so someone else can shine?"  
"Someone like you?" Rachel challenged, leaning forward in her chair to glare down at the African-American girl.  
"Yeah, why not?" Mercedes shot back. "Do you think I don't have strong enough vocal chords to match anything you belt out?"  
"Guys, hold on a second!" Mr. Shuester exclaimed in surprise at the sudden upheaval. "We have to make song selections as a team or we're nothing, right? Now, does anyone have any suggestions?"  
"Preferably not something from the 80s," Kurt declared from his chair in the top aisle.  
"Yeah, nothing a senior citizen would fall asleep to," Puckerman agreed.  
"Is there a theme for this year's sectionals?" Blaine asked from his spot next to Kurt.  
"Umm, yeah," Mr. Shue replied, glancing down at a sheet of paper lying on top of the piano. "90s dance hits."  
The room instantly erupted with excitement.  
"Ooh we should do Spice Girls," Kurt exclaimed, clapping his hands together childishly.  
"Hell, no!" Mercedes was quick to protest. "I am not parading around in some rubbery costume, objectifying my femininity. Hell to the no! We should do my girl, Janet."  
"Guys, Ricky Martin!" Santana piped up, ignoring everything Mercedes had just said. "Livin La Vida Loca is pure sex."  
Puck hooted his approval but Brittany didn't look impressed.  
"I for one would be all for doing Brittany Spears again," she stated, folding her arms over her Cheerios uniform.  
Kurt raised a hand. "That's actually not a bad idea. We could do Brittany Spears for Sectionals, couldn't we, Mr. Shue?"  
"Well, guys," replied the choir instructor in a dubious tone. "Most likely the other teams will pick the most popular 90s songs so we have to be careful about not doing the same thing."  
Blaine, who had kept quiet up until then, raised his hand tentatively. "How about Michael Jackson?"  
The room got loud again and Mr. Shue nodded, smiling at Blaine. "I did think of that, honestly, but I was worried you guys would think he was more 80s."  
"Oh, Mr. Shue, there is nothing passe about Michael," Mercedes argued fervently. "His music will live forever."  
"Yeah!" Several members of New Directions agreed and Kurt even patted Blaine on the arm, whispering "I gotta admit, that was pretty clever."  
Blaine smirked but narrowed his eyes when he saw Finn a few rows down, glaring at him.  
"Okay, but guys," Mr. Shue said, raising his hands as he tried to be heard above the babble of excitement in the room. "We still have to pick another artist to cover. Now, we could do "Black or White" and.."  
"Any suggestions, Blaine?" Rachel asked, raising her head to peer up at Blaine. She already had a notebook on her lap and a pen in her hand to jot down hisideas.  
From the chair next to hers, however, Rachel's boyfriend Finn, stared at her in angry shock. "What are you doing? Why is he the only one allowed to make suggestions?," Finn demanded. "Blaine's not the leader of this club!"  
"Woah, Finn, calm down," Mr. Shuester interceded, hurriedly.  
"Yeah, dude, you're killing the vibe in here," Artie said. "Blaine's suggestion to do Michael just happens to be a great idea. You can choose the next one."  
This made Finn's face scrunch up in confusion. "Well, uh.." He felt put on the spot as every pair of eyes in the room stared back at him. "I was thinking we'd do Sugar Ray?"  
"Oh no.."  
"Ugh, Finn, really?"  
Finn blushed as his fellow glee club members all gave him expressions of disgust.  
Tina raised her hand once the groans had quieted down. "I really like the song "Opposites Attract" by Paula Abdul."  
"That's a great idea, Tina," Blaine told the Asian girl and she flashed him a kind smile. Her boyfriend, Mike, nodded in approval, and the other members seemed to be in agreement as well, with the exception of Santana.  
"While I like Paula, I still think doing Ricky Martin would better our chances at winning," she insisted curtly. "One look at these hips shaking, and the audience will go wild."

After the last bell rang, signaling the end of their glee club meeting, Blaine met Kurt at the door.  
"Do you.." he hesitated before asking, "Do you want me to walk with you?"  
Kurt raised an eyebrow.  
Sensing his confusion, Blaine whispered so the other members exiting wouldn't overhear. "Because of Karofsky."  
"Oh," Kurt answered, his cheeks flushing pink at the unsettling memory. "No, it's fine. He's probably gone by now."  
Blaine gave him a dubious glance. "Kurt, it's not that late. The bell just rang and there's no football practice today."  
"How do you know that?" Kurt demanded irritably.  
"Because I heard Sam saying he was going straight home to play video games."  
Kurt sighed. "Okay, you can walk with me, but no funny business."  
Blaine rolled his eyes but followed Kurt out of the choir room, his gaze discretely wandering the halls for the imposing bully.

* * *

Originally, I wasn't going to have the New Directions do songs from the show but "Black or White" and "Opposites Attract" are both about acceptance so I think it could work and I can actually picture them performing it on Glee heehee :P Please leave a review, guys, and thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Glee does not belong to me, neither do the songs they perform.

* * *

Blaine approached the pink-haired girl with trepidation. He didn't know if she would want to talk to him now that he'd gone over to the "the dark side".  
"Quinn, what's up?"  
The once blond cheerleader puffed on a cigarette daintily between her fingers. Even wearing shades, Blaine could tell she was giving him a critical once-overs.  
"Heard you joined Glee club," Quinn said in a not quite emotionless tone. It sounded like she was trying too hard to seem tough and indifferent.  
Shrugging, Blaine said simply, "I like to sing."  
"Yeah?" Quinn taunted. "You like being that control freak's little bitch?"  
Blaine raised an eyebrow, assuming she meant Rachel. "Ouch. That's harsh. Was that why you quit? Because Berry pissed you off so much?"  
Taking one last drag on her cigarette, Quinn dropped it on the floor, kicking it with the toe of her boot. Blaine thought the gesture sort of childish.  
"Please," Quinn said bitterly. "I wouldn't give Rachel that much power over me. I quit that loser club because it wasn't doing me any good. I don't get slushies thrown in my face anymore. I get to steal lunch money from weaker kids now."  
Blaine leaned against the fence surrounding the spot where they were standing. "You didn't want to be labeled a loser," he mused. "That's why you quit?"  
Quinn nodded.  
"I get it," Blaine ammended. "But they're not all bad."  
Quinn smirked. "Yeah, that's easy for you to say. I bet they're all fawning over you, Mr. hazel-eyes and rock and roll hips. It's different when they hate your guts."  
"Why do you think they hate you?"  
This question caused Quinn's serene tone to harden. "I don't think, I know they hate me."  
However, Blaine remained skeptical. He didn't want to piss off the girl who had been the first person to talk to him since his transfer. It didn't seem fair that he'd just forget she existed now in favor of the glee club. "Does this mean you don't want to talk to me anymore, because I'm in a loser club?" he asked sincerely. "You were the first cool person I met at this school. I didn't think you were that shallow."  
Quinn exhaled sharply. "Well, you don't know me."  
She then turned and walked away. Blaine watched her climb up the bleachers and disappear against the streaming sunlight.  
"Hey, hot lips!"  
Turning his head, Blaine found Santana and Brittany standing behind the fence.  
He folded his arms over his chest, amused at their leering. "Can I help you?"  
"Brit and I thought it'd be cool if you helped us out with something," Santana declared, smirking at Blaine as her blond friend winked at him.  
Blaine suppressed a laugh. These girls were so obvious. "And what might that be?"  
Brittany interrupted Santana's sentence by asking excitedly, "Would you like to perform with us in the commons during lunch tomorrow?"  
Genuinely curious, Blaine asked, "Perform what?"  
Santana shrugged. "Just a song to showcase our hotness. I got some of the cheerleaders to join in."  
"Kurt?" Blaine asked without thinking. His cheeks flamed when Santana smirked.  
Brittany looked upset. "No, we didn't tell Kurt because we thought he'd try to steal the show and we want you to be our leading man."  
"That's right," Santana confirmed, nodding fiercely. "But to be fair, Kurt is more lady than man."  
Blaine scowled at this, not liking the jab she was discretely making towards Kurt's sexuality, but he decided to let it slide this time, in favor of possibly wowing the male cheerleader, with his dancing."Sounds like fun. What song are we doing?"  
Santana and Brittany traded a mischievous grin in response.

Kurt pushed his Banana Republic shades on top of his head, gazing up at the stairs where a group of about eight Cheerios were tiptoeing down, all in uniform.  
"Why didn't Santana and Brittany tell me we were having practice today?"  
Mercedes, from her spot beside him on one of the picnic benches, raised her head and said reluctantly, "I don't think it's practice, Kurt. Looks more like a show-offy performance we weren't asked to participate in."  
Kurt's eyes grew wide when he saw none other than Blaine Anderson sliding down a railing as Santana hit the button on a portable radio and the Cheerios started dancing.  
Blaine sang brightly,

_"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone._  
_It's not unusual to have fun with anyone._  
_But when I see you hanging about with anyone,_  
_It's not unusual to see me cry, oh I wanna die._"

Kurt and Mercedes gawked with the entire student body in the commons. Blaine shook his hips amid a sea of Cheerios and Santana openly flirted with him, brushing against his arms and batting her lashes when he wrapped a hand around her waist.  
Kurt didn't know whether to be annoyed, fascinated or jealous.  
Mercedes, despite being offended by the exclusion, was genuinely impressed by Blaine's moves. "That boy shakes his hips like he's part black," she stated, staring awestruck as two Cheerios brushed up against Blaine and he took each by a hand, twirling them in and out gracefully.  
Kurt scowled. "Who does his think he is, Fred Astaire?"  
"Aww, Kurt!" Mercedes suddenly preened. "You're so checking out his ass, don't deny it."  
Kurt turned fifty shades of red and Mercedes just laughed.  
"I'm telling Coach Sylvester about this," Kurt said indignantly. "We shouldn't be excluded from performances. Even if they are last minute."  
Mercedes nodded but clapped as the song ended and Blaine and the Cheerios ran down the steps as applause erupted around them.  
Kurt slid his sunglasses back on as Blaine, Santana and Brittany sauntered over to their table. Santana kept her hand pressed against the small of Blaine's back, which really irritated him.  
"Umm, how come we weren't asked to participate?" Mercedes demanded, frowning at Santana.  
The Latina merely shrugged. "It was last minute."  
"Yeah, it's nothing personal, Mercedes," Brittany said in a gentler voice. "But we were worried you and Kurt would want to hog the sunlight because you two are such divas and all."  
"Hog the sunlight?" Kurt asked, annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"I think she means 'hog the spotlight'," Mercedes whispered in Kurt's ear.  
Brittany looked confused. "But I thought that's what you say when you're inside. There are no light bulbs out here. The sun is shining, instead."  
Blaine bit back a smile and leaned in closer to Kurt. "What did you think?" he asked lowly.  
Kurt's cheeks flared. Mercedes bumped against his shoulder but he didn't want to blurt out what he really thought of Blaine's performance in front of a leering Santana and juvenile Brittany.  
"I..uh…thought it was good for a show-off."  
Santana rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous that I get to rub up against Blaine's perky little ass while you're stuck oggling from the benches."  
With a huff, Kurt leapt from the picnic table and turned on his heel, ignoring Blaine's voice calling out to him and the girls' irriating giggles.

Blaine was transferring his books from his locker to his backpack when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.  
He stumbled from the aggressive shove and steadied himself against the lockers as a voice boomed, "Hey, twinkle-toes, I saw your little dance today."  
Blaine turned to see Dave Karofsky, the jock who Kurt said had been harassing him, standing behind him with a mocking grin on his face.  
"Looked to me like you were wiggling your hips like a freaking stripper," Karofsky laughed before jabbing a finger at Blaine's chest. "A freaking gay stripper."  
Blaine merely glanced up at the mountain of dumb football player standing in front of him and wrapped a hand around Karofsky's finger, bringing it down slowly. "I'm flattered but you're not my type," he said as calmly as he could without letting his anger show. He still couldn't push the image of Kurt staring in fear as Karofsky towered over him. Karofsky's eyes were flashing with rage as he moved in on Blaine, crowding into his personal space.  
"I am not a queer!" Karofsky growled, forcing Blaine's back against the metal lockers.  
Blaine shrugged, though he was wondering why none of the passing students seemed to notice what was going on. "Then why don't you quit trying to kiss me?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Blaine cursed his stupidity. One of Karofsky's hands curled into a fist.  
"You little-" he began but then Kurt appeared, yanking on Karofsky's sleeve with more force than Blaine would've given him credit for and pulling him away from Blaine.  
"Leave him alone!" the smaller boy yelled. "Why don't you go smack beer cans against your head or some other idiotic thing?"  
"Kurt-" Blaine said, shocked at the bravery in Kurt's voice. He didn't look scared at all right then.  
"Oh, how sweet," Karofsky sneered, dusting off his shirt as if Kurt's touch had contaminated him. "Come to defend your boyfriend, Hummel? Maybe later he'll let you get inside those skinny jeans."  
Kurt was about to respond when Blaine stepped in front of him and growled at Karofsky. "I might be half your size but I was on the wrestling team at Dalton and my best friend's dad is a district attorney so if you lay a hand on Kurt, I'll have you expelled faster than you can blink."  
Karofsky looked surprised but then he just smirked and said, "District attorney, huh? Is that how you avoided juvie? Your best friend's dad got you off clean?"  
Before he knew what was doing, Blaine shoved Karofsky with all his strength, sending the much bigger boy stumbling a couple of feet, nearly bumping into a group of students in the hallway. Karofsky lunged for Blaine as Kurt yelled for them to stop, trying to intercede as Karofsky made to punch Blaine but then a strong hand grabbed his arm and jerked him away before he got a black eye.  
"What the hell, Karofsky, Anderson?!" a voice bellowed nearby and all three boys turned to see Coach Beiste holding Kurt by one hand while prevented Karofsky from advancing on Blaine with her other hand on his chest.  
"Hummel, what are you doing getting in the middle?" The imposing female demanded, staring wide-eyed at Kurt.  
"I couldn't just let him hit Blaine," Kurt muttered, shouldering his bag as a blush ran across the bridge of his nose.  
Blaine folded his arms over his chest. "We weren't doing anything, Coach Beiste," he said icily. "Karofsky threatened us."  
"That's crap!" Karofsky fired. "This dude was creeping on me. I was defending myself."  
"What?!" Blaine shot back, glaring at the menacing look in Karofsky's eyes. "I wouldn't stoop so low as to touch you, believe me. There are grosser things I'd do-"  
"Okay, enough!" Coach Beiste exclaimed, holding both boys at an arm's length of each other as it seemed they were about to go at it again. "I won't tell Figgins if you two promise not to cross each other's paths again. But if I see you bullying either Kurt or Blaine, Karofsky, your ass if off the team, do you hear me?"  
Karofsky glared at Blaine but gave a short nod. "Fine. Just make sure these queers don't try to jump me."  
"I said that's enough," Coach Beiste reminded him, letting go of both boys. "Now all three of you, go home."  
Blaine picked up his bag and followed Kurt down the hall to the exit.  
Out in the parking lot, Kurt stopped Blaine before he could walk over to his vehicle.  
The blue-eyed boy placed a hand tentatively on his arm. "Thanks for defending me back there," he murmured. Blaine was impressed by the utter lack of sarcasm in his tone. "Not even Finn has done that for me before."  
Blaine frowned in confusion. "How can he not know? How can anyone not know? I mean, Karofsky was about to hit me in the middle of the hallway!"  
Kurt sighed. His eyes glistened in the sunlight when he said, "Nobody gives a damn."  
Blaine's eyes narrowed. "Not even your friends?"  
Kurt shrugged. "They can't be there for me all the time."  
"Yeah, but, Kurt, this isn't fair. You have friends on the football team-"  
"And Finn is my stepbrother," Kurt interrupted exasperatingly. "Still, nothing's changed. Karofsky, Azimio and the other jocks still come after me every day."  
Blaine blinked. "Finn is your stepbrother?"  
Kurt nodded.  
This made no sense to Blaine. "_Why the hell is he letting Kurt suffer like this_?" He wondered, his earlier rage returning. "_Doesn't he car_e _that Kurt could get seriously hurt? He almost did today_!"  
"Coach Beiste was right," Blaine told Kurt as they walked slowly towards their cars. "You shouldn't have gotten in the middle."  
Kurt smirked, looking amused suddenly. "Wrestling team, huh? I never would've guessed."  
Blaine scoffed. "Why? Because I'm not a giant?"  
Kurt offered him a tiny smile in response. "Not to be stereotypical, but yes."  
Blaine bit his lip before asking, "Do you want to go grab some coffee?"  
Kurt exhaled loudly, "After that whole brawl, I'm in the mood for something a bit more relaxing. How about frozen hot chocolates at Meredith's on Charlton Street?"  
Blaine's lips formed a smile that caught Kurt off guard and made him blush fiercely. "If only I could stop doing that in front of him!" The chestnut-haired boy thought to himself, mortified by the butterflies swarming in his chest.

"This is awesome," Blaine declared as he and Kurt walked through Brenan park, sipping frozen chocolate drinks they gotten at the little from the cafe down the road.  
Kurt hummed in agreement.  
They had left their cars in front of Meredith's and walked over to the park where there were benches and a pond in the center. Ducks waded on top of the water, making snaky lines along its silvery surface.  
"Frozen chocolate is my guilty pleasure," Kurt told Blaine as they sat down on a bench overlooking the pond. "Even more than coffee."  
Blaine nodded. "This is way better than Starbucks."  
After a moment, Kurt suggested that they practice their number for sectionals.

Kurt had a voice that was unique and almost birdlike. Whenever he hit a high note, Blaine's eyes would widen and his breath would catch momentarily. It was melodic but sort of haunting, given that Kurt was obviously a boy singing these high notes without sounding shrill.  
Blaine was honestly impressed by what he heard as they practiced their song selections in the mostly empty park.  
His stomach twisted as he thought about how it would feel to compete against his former team.  
"Your voice is really.. Startling, but in a good way," He told Kurt when they took a break after belting out "Opposites Attract" for the third time in a row.  
Kurt smirked and tiptoed near the pond's edge. "That's the nicest comment I've ever received about my voice. Most people assume I was castrated."  
Blaine burst out laughing. "That's insane. People are idiots. Your voice is beautiful."  
For a moment, Kurt didn't know what to say. "Th-Thanks," he stuttered, turning around so Blaine wouldn't see the fiery pink on his cheeks. He kicked at a few pebbles with the toe of his boot, sending them rolling into the shallow waves.  
"Sometimes I wish I had a deeper voice," he admitted quietly. "Then people might take me seriously."  
Blaine got up off the grass where he'd been sitting cross-legged and came to stand next to Kurt, facing the lake.  
"I understand," he said lightly. "But you have the kind of voice that will make you famous because it's so unique."  
Kurt grinned but didn't look convinced. "My dream is to make it to Broadway, live the New York dream."  
Blaine smiled back. "Your voice will probably make those Broadway critiques swoon."  
Kurt rolled his eyes and bumped Blaine with his shoulder. "And what do you want to do after high school?"  
Blaine shrugged, not saying anything.  
"Oh come on, Mr. Teenage Dream," Kurt insisted. "You're already a celebrity in glee club."  
Blaine laughed "You're exaggerating."  
Kurt raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were practically drooling last week when you performed "Whistle" with Puck, Mike and Artie. And today with that little number in the commons-"  
"You said I was being a show-off," Blaine reminded him.  
Kurt dropped his gaze. "Well, you were, dancing with Santana and Brittany, letting them put their hands all over you like you're Cee-lo."  
Blaine did a double take. "Were you.. Jealous?" he asked curiously. Initially, it had been his plan to take Kurt's arrogance down a peg or two but making him jealous had never been his idea. In other circumstances, Blaine would've flirted with someone less flamboyant. Now, however, the thought didn't sound so unappealing.  
Kurt, though arrogant at times, had a softer more vulnerable side that Blaine was now discovering.  
"Why would I be jealous?" Kurt demanded, his hands twisting in his lap, nervously. Blaine resisted the urge to hold them. They just looked so smooth and pale..  
"I don't know," Blaine teased lightly. "I was just wondering why it bothered you that Santana and Brittany asked me to sing with them."  
Kurt sputtered. "B-because they should've asked me and Mercedes to join! We're on the same team. It's discrimination, keeping us out."  
"Oh," Blaine quipped, letting Kurt know by his voice and expression that he wasn't convinced.  
"I'm not jealous," Kurt huffed. His gaze wandered over the surrounding trees before he added stiffly, "You're not my type."  
"Oh is that so?" Blaine asked, genuinely curious at what Kurt's 'type' would be.  
"Yeah, I need someone who's not only ridiculously handsome but has an impeccable eye for fashion as well."  
Blaine snorted.  
Kurt turned his head, glaring at him coldly. "I can't help it if I want someone whose wardrobe doesn't solely consist of band shirts and denim."  
Blaine bit his bottom lip mischievously. "So that leaves the ridiculously handsome part," he said cheekily. "Do I fit the bill?"  
"You certainly do not."  
Blaine chuckled, knowing Kurt was lying.  
"Look, Blaine, don't get me wrong. You're cute in a 90s teenager sort of way but I'm looking for someone who's more Prada than Abercrombie."  
Blaine shook his head. "That barely makes sense. I don't wear Abercrombie. I'm more of an outlet store kind of guy."  
Kurt nodded. "Right, well, I guess that's better than what Finn and the rest of the guys at school wear." In a lower tone, he muttered, "I can't believe I used to have a crush on him. Plaid.. Ick!" He shuddered adorably but Blaine was distracted by Kurt's last sentence. "You had a crush on who?" he inquired hesitantly.  
The other boy groaned, realizing Blaine had heard and awkwardly dropped his gaze while kicking at the ground with his shoe. "Finn. I used to have a crush on Finn before we became stepbrothers." He admitted quietly. "Actually, I even set our parents up just so we'd be closer."Kurt was ashamed to confess this and he wondered fearfully what Blaine thought of him now that he knew he wasn't always so confident.  
Blaine mulled over Kurt's confession for a few moments. It seemed strange but he wondered if that was why Finn refused to defend him against the bullying. That would make sense if Finn had known about Kurt's crush, seeing as the quarterback seemed narrow-minded in Blaine's eyes.  
"Did he ever find out?"  
Kurt nodded. "He didn't take it too well. Finn called me a-" Kurt stopped abruptly. "It doesn't matter now, though," he mumbled a second later. "Finn used to be like all those other jocks, calling me names and throwing me in dumpsters."  
"What?" Blaine asked, shocked. "They threw you in dumpsters? Finn did that?"  
"It's no big deal," Kurt answered flippantly. "Just this thing they do to kids who they think are losers."  
"Kurt, this is insane."  
"It's my life."  
"It shouldn't be."  
Both boys stared at each other. Kurt was caught in the intensity of Blaine's honey-colored irises. He didn't know why this dark-haired 'delinquent' cared so much about what happened to him.  
But impulsively, Blaine brought his arm around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt stiffened but slowly relaxed as the warmth of Blaine's shirt seeped into his skin.  
After a short silence, Blaine said in a lighter tone, "I gotta say, Finn doesn't seem like your type either."  
Kurt chuckled, looking a little happier. "I guess I was just lonely back then. I've been the only out gay kid at McKinley for a long time."  
Blaine grinned. "Till now."  
Kurt looked at him. "Till now," he agreed. Standing so close, Kurt could see now that Blaine's eyes were more than just the standard hazel. They were more like buttery gingerbread, the kind his mom used to make..  
"Wait, what?" Kurt wondered where all these gooey thoughts had came from. He was actually checking Blaine out! Blaine, the guy who got kicked out of prep school for fighting or drugs or something equally shameful. What would his dad think? Or his friends, for that matter? Santana would make his life a living hell if she knew he thought Blaine was attractive and Rachel would think he was trying to compete for a duet with her new male lead.  
"_Oh my god, no!_" Kurt screamed internally. "_I don't think he's cute. I don't think he's cute. Blaine is NOT my type_."  
"Maybe we should go," Blaine whispered as their eyes remained locked on each other. He was feeling his insides twisting uncomfortably and he wanted nothing more than to draw Kurt in closer, which was dangerous considering how soft Kurt's mouth looked, the skin so pink.. It had been awhile since Blaine had kissed another boy and he found himself wondering what it'd be like to bite down on Kurt's bottom lip and hear him moan..  
"_Quit it_!" Blaine yelled at himself silently. He dropped his arms from around Kurt's shoulders and said quickly, "We should go. It's getting late."Kurt nodded slowly, his body shivering slightly when Blaine stepped away. For a second, he could've sworn it'd felt good to be in the other boy's arms.  
"_Is it because I'm lonely_?" Kurt thought. _"Because Blaine is not my type_!"


	8. Chapter 8

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

Kurt sipped his sour lemonade daintily and glanced across the lunch table at Blaine. The other boy was chuckling at one of Sam's impersonations and joking around with Mike and Tina as if they'd been sitting together for years. It was amazing how well-adjusted Blaine had become among Kurt's friends, given his reputation. Kurt had thought Blaine would only be popular with the Skanks, and maybe Puck, but to his surprise, almost everyone besides Finn liked Blaine's company.  
"Well, the girls like him because of his eyes and his smile and his cute little tush.. Oh my god, not again!" Kurt blushed hotly as he struggled to pull those thoughts out of his mind. He had decided he wouldn't look at Blaine that way because even though, yes, the boy had pretty eyes and his voice was sort of decent, he also had a sloppy wardrobe and a cocky demeanor that just… irritated Kurt. _"I mean, he thinks he's a rock star here. It's unbelievable!"_  
"Kurt, what do you think?" Mercedes asked suddenly from Kurt's left side on the cafeteria bench.  
"Hmm?" Kurt replied absentmindedly.  
Mercedes looked annoyed. "I asked what you thought about me getting highlights."  
Kurt's gaze flickered to Blaine for a second before he responded, "I think your hair is fine the way it is, Cedes. If you get some ashy blond highlights or whatever it'll just make you look like a trashy hooker."  
Mercedes raised an eyebrow. "Umm.. thanks. Is something bothering you, boo?"  
Kurt sighed and picked up his plastic fork, stabbing at his salad. "No, nothing's wrong."  
"Are you sure?" Mercedes studied her friend closely. "You seem flustered."  
"I'm not," Kurt insisted, not wanting to raise his voice but feeling exasperated by Mercedes's persistence. She was his best friend and they shared a lot with one another but Kurt didn't feel comfortable talking to her about Blaine after he saw how she reacted during the Cheerio performance in the commons the other day. Mercedes would most likely accuse Kurt of crushing on Blaine. And that most certainly was not what he wanted to hear.  
"Are you nervous about our performance on Friday?" Mercedes inquired, smiling a bit. "Because I for one am excited!"  
"Performance?"  
Kurt looked up to see Blaine staring at him and Mercedes with genuine curiosity.  
"Yep, baby, me and Kurt here are performing Madonna's song "4 Minutes" with the Cheerios during assembly on Friday," Mercedes explained proudly, wrapping an arm around Kurt who just grinned weakly.  
Blaine leaned across the table. "Are you okay, Kurt?" he asked softly, staring intently at the other boy.  
Kurt nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. This lemonade is just so repulsive. It's starting to burn my throat." He pushed the half full glass of watery lemonade away and stood up. "I'm going to go to the library and get started on my French homework."  
"I'll come with you, Kurt." Mercedes rose, picking up her tray and following him as he dumped the remains of his meager lunch in the garbage near the exit doors.  
Blaine watched them leave before finishing the last of his turkey sandwich and gathering his trash. Before he could leave the cafeteria, he felt a hand grab his arm. Thinking it was Karofsky again, Blaine opened his mouth to tell him to back off but closed it when he turned and saw that it was Finn.  
"What's the deal with you and Kurt?" the quarterback demanded, his small eyes narrowing into tiny slits.  
Blaine studied Finn. He was a giant, almost, which made his total lack of backbone when it came to defending his brother even more pathetic.  
"There's no deal," he answered right away. After a second, though, he decided to play with Finn's head by adding in a teasing tone, "He's cute, I'm cute. We have a lot in common."  
He expected Finn to ask what that meant but Finn just scowled. "If you mess with my stepbrother-"  
"Stepbrother?" Blaine interrupted, pretending that he didn't know this already. He wanted Finn to see how he wasn't helping Kurt by letting the bullying continue at the hands of his team mates.  
"Kurt's dad married my mom," Finn explained, a hint of annoyance in his voice.  
"Well, isn't he lucky?" Blaine replied sarcastically. "If Kurt's your stepbrother, then how come you haven't told your football buddies to stop picking on him? It seems to me like you should be having this conversation with Karofsky and Azimio, not me."  
For a moment, Finn's eyes darted to the table where he usually sat with the football players. They were all there, scarfing down their lunches and laughing obnoxiously. He was speechless for a second before addressing Blaine again.  
"If all that stuff about you getting kicked out of Dalton is true then I don't want you near Kurt. He doesn't do drugs-"  
"Well, you shouldn't believe everything you hear," Blaine cut him off sharply, his amusement at Finn's ridiculous attitude quickly becoming rage.  
"There are people from your old school who blogged about it, dude," Finn insisted, folding his arms over his chest and daring Blaine to deny it with a pointed look.  
Blaine shrugged, though unlike the other times with Karofsky, the gesture was more forced as he stared up at the dubious quarterback. "I also read a blog or two making fun of your girlfriend, saying she's a self-medicated control freak, but that didn't stop me from joining her club, now, did it? Maybe you shouldn't accuse others of stuff you know nothing about, especially since you're not such a stand-up dude yourself."  
Finn opened his mouth, his eyes flashing with shock, but Blaine spoke up before he could make a sound.  
"If you were a real man, you wouldn't let those homophobic bastards push your stepbrother around."  
Then Blaine turned and exited the lunch room before his emotions got too out of control.

"5..6..7..8!"  
At the loud blow of Coach Sylvester's whistle, the Cheerios entered the gymnasium, sashaying as a horn belted and the McKinley High band began to play Madonna's 4 Minutes.  
Two cheerleaders in sweatpants instead of skirts broke out from the group and started to lead the squad to the center of the court. They were Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel with microphone headsets tucked in their hair. Kurt was the first to sing into his mouthpiece.  
_"Come on, girl, I've been waiting for someone to pick up my stroll."_  
On cue, Mercedes sang out, "_Now don't waste time, give me desire, show me how you wanna roll."_  
The two marched to the center of the gym facing the bleachers where most of the students were sitting and gawking at the pair. Kurt spotted Blaine next to Mike and Tina not too far up on the stands and for a second, his stomach turned with unexpected butterflies. But he quickly got back into step with Mercedes as the other cheerleaders started to dance behind them.  
Moving sideways and jutting his right hip out, Kurt exuded their routine in time to the energetic beat of the song as Mercedes's rich voice complemented the lyrics of the next verse and the crowd erupted in applause.  
From his spot next to Tina, Blaine watched Kurt's performance with a mixture of amusement and awe. He remembered Kurt calling him a show-off after his performance in the commons. Blaine couldn't help noticing how freely Kurt was rotating his hips and crouching low, grunting adorably while singing with real confidence. It surprised him how flexible the other boy looked as well. Blaine felt his skin burn with a strange wave of attraction when Kurt slid against Mercedes's back, almost touching the floor before raising himself up, lifting his arms in the air and revealing the flatness of his stomach muscles underneath his shirt.  
Blaine swallowed hard. He knew Kurt was somehow trying to get back at him for the thing with Brittany and Santana and he knew he would regret thinking of Kurt as anything sexy but he couldn't help it. The boy was not just adorable, albeit self-centered and slightly narcissistic, he was also a freaking tease in his own way, Blaine just realized.  
"This isn't good," he thought as Kurt and Mercedes sang the last lines of the song and the music ended. "I can't think of him like that. I can't think of anyone like that, at least not now. Not after.."  
Blaine didn't want his thoughts to go back to that humiliating place. As everyone started getting up and leaving the gym, he told himself that he would just compliment Mercedes and go home. Forget Kurt.  
"Those were some great moves, Mercedes!" Blaine gave the dark-skinned girl a one-sided embrace as he met her in the center of the court.  
She hugged him back. grinning brightly. "Thanks, baby. Now you know it's a crime against nature for anyone to keep Kurt and I out of a show."  
Blaine laughed. "I agree." His eyes slid to the Kurt. "Your dancing wasn't half bad, either," Blaine said lightly.  
Kurt raised his chin arrogantly and Blaine was sure he was about to make some snappy comment but instead he said simply, "Thanks. I was kind of nervous."  
Blaine's eyes widened. "Well, I don't see why. You sounded great and you looked.. cool." He bit his lip, mortified by the last word that came out of his mouth. "How dorky was that?" he wondered, color flooding to his cheeks.  
Kurt raised a delicate eyebrow. "You think I looked cool?" he asked skeptically but before Blaine could respond, Mercedes wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders and exclaimed, "Hell, yeah, baby! You and I killed this thing."  
Kurt and Blaine both dropped their gazes to the floor. Blaine could tell by the little grin on Kurt's face that he was amused by Blaine's embarrassing moment and he just wanted to disappear.  
"Well, I gotta jet," Mercedes announced, removing her arm from Kurt's shoulders and turning towards the exit. "My mom wants me to help her pick out a birthday gift for my aunt. I'll call you tomorrow, Kurt. Bye, Blaine."  
"Bye, Mercedes," Both boys murmured in unison, watching as she walked out, leaving them alone together in an awkward silence.  
Blaine decided to make things as easy as possible and just say goodbye but before he could escape, Kurt wrapped a hand around his arm.  
"Can I ask you something?" the brunette inquired hopefully.  
Blaine paused. "That depends.."  
Kurt pulled his hand back and shifted from one foot to the other, looking nervous suddenly.  
_"Adorable,_" Blaine thought again then told himself to stop.  
"What did you say to Finn in the cafeteria the other day?" Kurt asked slowly.  
Blaine sighed. Of course, Finn had probably complained to his stepbrother.  
"I told him he should get his teammates to stop picking on you."  
Kurt's blue eyes widened. "Why would you do that?"  
Blaine glanced away uncomfortably. "You're not as annoying as you used to be," he answered cryptically. "I don't think it's fair that they're giving you a hard time and nobody seems to do anything."  
Kurt chewed on his bottom lip for a second. Though his instinct reaction would be to snap at Blaine for calling him irritating, he was shocked by how sincere and caring the other boy's words sounded.  
"He almost got into a fight with Karofsky!" Kurt recalled.  
"I..umm.. I appreciate that, really," he told Blaine hesitantly.  
The other boy nodded. "Don't mention it." After a pause he added, "Your performance was good."  
Kurt smiled more easily. "Seriously?"  
"Yeah," Blaine smirked. "Though you were shaking your hips pretty bad so next time don't criticize my performance." He winked, amused by the blush sprouting on Kurt's cheeks.  
Blaine thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't as pale as the other teen. He was sure that his own blush was barely noticeable in comparison, but at the moment he felt something stirring in the pit of his stomach, a sudden urge to put his hands on Kurt's face, touch his lips.. They were so rosy.  
Blaine snapped out of this random fantasy and realized Kurt was still staring at him.  
"I..uh.. I gotta go," Blaine mumbled.  
"Yeah, me too," Kurt quipped. But neither of them moved.  
Blaine watched as Kurt shifted his weight on one leg. His eyes swept over the other boy's lean body and he wondered what it would feel like to touch the contours of Kurt's chest, his slender biceps and flat stomach.  
Kurt wasn't the bulky type, by any means. Blaine entertained the idea of having his long arms and legs wrapped around him.. It was a new idea and he didn't know whether to throw it away or give it a chance to burn.  
Kurt Hummel was exceedingly self-centered, after all, and whiney, not to mention competitive. His brother already hated Blaine and that was too much drama. But on the other hand, he was cute as hell. And Blaine hadn't been with anyone in a long time..  
He didn't have time to mull over this, however, because Kurt closed the distance between them. "Blaine," he whispered. "I really-"  
Before Kurt could continue, Blaine cupped his hands around the other boy's face and kissed him gently, his chest vibrating with adrenaline as Kurt's hands landed on his shoulders. Kurt's lips felt soft and hesitant against Blaine's but when Blaine pulled back, his eyes were shimmering like the surface of a pool during summertime.  
"Was that okay?" Blaine asked quietly. He wasn't sure how to start this. He'd never hit on someone as timid as Kurt.  
The other boy simply nodded.

"Blaine?"  
Tyler Anderson poked his head in the doorway of his son's bedroom. Blaine was stretched out on his bed, flipping through a magazine, barely glancing at his father as he answered, "Yeah?"  
Tyler hesitated. Blaine's behavior had been relatively good as of late and he was afraid to wonder how long it would last.  
"I'm going to drop off some papers at the office in Pine Ridge. Do you want to come? We can stop by Wes's house."  
Blaine glanced at his father, giving him a stiff nod. "Sure."

Blaine stared out the passenger window of his dad's Buick, replaying in his head the memory of his kiss with Kurt the day before.  
When they'd pulled apart the second time, Kurt had mumbled something about having to change out of his uniform.  
"Alright, I'll wait for you," Blaine offered but Kurt had pressed a hand to his chest when he tried closing the short space between them.  
"That's okay," the other boy had said, his turquoise eyes momentarily lingering on Blaine's chest before meeting his gaze. "It might take me awhile. I also have to stop by Coach Sylvester's office."  
Blaine had hesitated, wondering if any football players would still be trolling the halls, but on the other hand, he didn't want Kurt to think he was the insistent type after just one kiss.. Well, two, actually.  
He wasn't even sure what it all meant so he'd just said, "Okay, I'll see later then" and left the gym.  
Now Blaine had a sinking feeling that Kurt would try to act like nothing had happened between them. Blaine didn't want to deal with that if it were true, as great as that first kiss had been, Blaine felt he didn't have the necessary patience to deal with a closet case situation.  
Tyler Anderson pulled in front of the Montgomerys' house and unlocked the passenger door for his son. He was a little ashamed that he hadn't tried to initiate a conversation with Blaine during the drive but figured he still had a chance on the way home. It had just become so hard, that the man usually figured it was pointless.  
He and Blaine just weren't on the same page anymore. They hadn't been for while now. It was unnerving. Most of the time, it felt like his son was living on a completely different continent.  
"I'll be back in a little while," He said with a tight smile as Blaine unbuckled his seatbelt.  
"Fine," Blaine replied, thinking that that smile was one his father probably reserved for his clients but he was grateful for it, nonetheless. _"Beggars can't be choosers,_" He thought as he climbed out of the car and made his way up Wes's driveway. _"Especially when they're only used to getting scowls from their dads._"

"Has it gotten better in the New Directions?" Wes inquired as he handed Blaine a soda in his kitchen after Blaine arrived.  
Blaine leaned against the counter and popped the lid open. He shrugged. "I let the stereotypical bad boy know I wasn't there to steal his rep and most of the other guys are okay with me being in the club, with the exception of the quarterback, but I'm not really worried about him."  
Blaine took a sip of his Sprite to distract himself from the fact that what he'd just told Wes wasn't completely true. Although Finn didn't intimidate him much, he was a little worried now that he'd kissed Kurt. If Kurt got mad at Blaine again for some reason, would he tell Finn that Blaine had grabbed him, that he hadn't wanted to kiss him at all? Blaine shook the thought out of his mind. He didn't want to believe that Kurt was that kind of person; malicious and cowardly, especially after Blaine had stood up for him against his tormenters. But then, if Kurt did want to.. Be with Blaine in any kind of way and Finn saw them together, would he make trouble for them? _"Ugh.."_ That was the type of stress Blaine didn't need._ "It's easier not to care,_" he thought.  
"That's cool," Wes said, leaning against the refrigerator. "So.." He glanced down at the tiled floor, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "There's something I've found out and-"  
"What is it?" Blaine questioned, turning to examine his friend's face. "Is everything okay?"  
Wes waved off Blaine's concern. "It's not about me."  
"David? The Warblers?"  
"No, it's about Sebastian."  
The name hit Blaine like a cannonball and he stared at Wes, dumbfounded.  
"He's going to be at Sectionals on one of the opposing teams," Wes finished off hurriedly. "I think they're called Reckless Sound."


	9. Chapter 9

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

His hands shook slightly as they climbed up the other boy's spine and dove into his chestnut hair. Blaine's fingers twisted in the fine strands as the boy kissed him heatedly.  
"You're better than I thought," the other boy murmured as he pulled back and Blaine's eyes flashed open.  
He was about to make a witty remark when the boy turned his head and began kissing the side of his neck.  
Blaine felt his hips jerk with need.  
"Wait.." he mumbled, sweeping his hands over the boy's arms. Twisting his head to the side, Blaine tried to catch a glimpse of his face. It was weird how he couldn't recognize the voice, either.  
"Kurt?" Blaine whispered.  
There was no response and he paused before saying, "Sebastian?"

Blaine startled awake, the maroon sheets on his bed twisted around his ankles. He turned over on his stomach and stared out the window at the green leaves of the eucalyptus tree outside his bedroom.  
He wasn't sure if he'd been dreaming about Sebastian or Kurt, but he was willing to forget about it, just the same. Glancing at the clock on the desk in the corner, Blaine noticed that he was fifteen minutes late for school.

"Blaine?"  
Blaine rubbed a hand over his face as he stood in front of his locker after third period. His eyes stung from lack of sleep and for some reason, Kurt's voice rang much louder than usual as he walked up to him, wearing his Cheerio uniform.  
"Blaine, can we talk for a second?" Kurt asked, clutching a binder to his chest.  
"I have trig," Blaine replied shortly, retrieving a text book and shutting his locker as quietly as he could. "Why does this feel like a hangover?" he wondered. He hadn't had a drop of alcohol all weekend, just an annoying dream so why was he feeling like he'd been hit by a four-wheeler?  
"I- I know," Kurt stammered, wondering why Blaine looked angry and unlike himself. Where was the charm and cocky demeanor? "I just wanted you to know that.. umm.. what we did, you know-"  
"We kissed," Blaine said bluntly. He stared at Kurt. "Now let me guess, you want to pretend that it never happened."  
Kurt's blue eyes widened. "Why would I want that?"  
Blaine pressed his lips together before stepping closer to him and saying tauntingly, "Oh I don't know, maybe you don't want people to know you're seeing the wrong boy, the dead-beat, the loser.."  
Kurt laughed. "Blaine, in this town, I'm considered a loser and people wouldn't like seeing me with any boy at all. Plus, you know I didn't mean that." He lowered his voice before continuing, "I meant that the kiss.. It felt nice."  
Blaine raised his eyebrows.  
"But I'm not ready to tell my friends yet," Kurt finished reluctantly.  
"Why not?" Blaine questioned. "It was just a kiss, right?"  
"But people will think we're dating."  
"Well. we're not," Blaine declared, his tone hardening. "You shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. It was just one kiss, and frankly, I'm not interested in drama. I've got enough of that already."  
Kurt nodded slowly. "Okay, so.."  
"I gotta go." Blaine turned in the direction of his class, leaving Kurt standing in the hallway, dumbfounded and embarrassed.

Blaine pulled off his shirt and stuffed it in his duffle bag, replacing it with a ratty old Henley he'd had for ages. Soon the cotton was sticking to his body from the sweat that soaked through as he threw punches at the boxing bag in front of him.  
He couldn't stop thinking about Sebastian and it was driving him mad, in both senses of the word. He didn't know what could be worse than seeing his ex-boyfriend who had gotten him addicted to drugs at a Glee competition where he was on an opposing team, singing beside the new boy he had feelings for. It was so frustrating! Just when he thought he was getting better, it all went to hell..  
Blaine dug his right fist into the heavy bag over and over until his arm ached, but still his anger and frustration worsened. There was nothing he could possibly do to get the memory of Sebastian's laughter out of his head.. At least, nothing he could do without E.  
Taking a sharp breath, Blaine dropped his hands.  
Ecstasy.  
It had been a sure-fire way to distract him from Sebastian's mood swings back when they were together. Now, however, after therapy and his father's rejection of him, the tantalizing little pill was no longer an option for Blaine. He had to figure out some other way to deal with this devastating event looming on the horizon.  
That was why he was in the boys' locker room, hitting a punching bag and not caring if his fingers broke.  
"Blaine!"  
Kurt's voice sounded almost shrill as it rang out in the locker room as the other boy ran in, slamming the door behind him.  
Blaine ignored him, though, and kept punching the boxing bag.  
"What's wrong? What are you doing?" Kurt demanded.  
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Blaine replied bitterly. "I'm punching a punching bag."  
Kurt studied Blaine's expression for a second before approaching him. He didn't understand how Blaine could turn on him so fast; one minute, the other teen was standing at his locker, looking cute and charming, then suddenly he was yelling at Kurt and running away. Now he was looking so angry, that it scared him a little.  
"You didn't answer my first question," Kurt said after a moment of silence, watching Blaine beat the punching bag rhythmically. "What's wrong?"  
Finally, Blaine stopped and glanced down at the floor. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily and moisture coated the inside of his shirt. Kurt couldn't help noticing how strong Blaine was, despite being a sweaty mess with his hair damp and curling on his forehead. Kurt's eyes roamed over Blaine's biceps and the unassuming muscles that peeked out as he flexed his arms, pulling off the gloves from his hands and rolling his shoulders back.  
"I got some news about Sectionals," Blaine muttered, collapsing on a bench near the lockers. "My ex-boyfriend is going to be there."  
Kurt thought before speaking. "And I take it things ended badly between you two?" He asked hesitantly, not wanting to make Blaine go ballistic or turn on him again in a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sort of way. He knew that Blaine wasn't exactly the dangerous delinquent he'd made him out to be at first, but he still didn't know him too well.  
Blaine barked out a hard laugh. "No. The way we ended things, it was.." He shook his head and exhaled loudly. "Terrible."  
Kurt sat down beside him. "Tell me about it."  
"I'd rather not."  
"Wow.. That bad?"  
Blaine nodded, hoping Kurt wouldn't keep prying. He didn't want this beautiful boy to know how low he'd gotten when he'd been with Sebastian Smythe. If there was a chance he could do things over, Blaine didn't want anything from that dark time affecting his only shot at happiness. Maybe it could be fun with Kurt, if they could shut out everyone else's opinion.  
"For awhile Sebastian and I sneaked around because of his father," Blaine said slowly. "But it wasn't all that great."  
"He wasn't out and proud like you?" Kurt asked more gently.  
Blaine shook his head. "No, not like me. Only our friends at Dalton knew, but Sebastian's dad is a state attorney so.."  
"Let me guess," Kurt cut in. "He'd rather his dad didn't find out he has a twink for a son?"  
Blaine smiled wryly. "Something like that, though I guess now he knows, or is suspicious, anyway."  
Kurt dropped his gaze to the floor. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said before. I was just worried about what Santana and Rachel would say." He paused before adding, "And Mercedes and maybe Finn.."  
Blaine laughed. "A lot of people would have something to say if they heard that we'd kissed."  
Kurt sighed, bowing his head. "I guess so."  
Blaine stared at the boy beside him for a minute before asking, "But it was good? The kiss, I mean?"  
Kurt looked up and gave Blaine a small shake of his head. "It was alright."  
Blaine grinned. "Yeah? Not great or wonderful?" He bumped his shoulder against Kurt's playfully. "Deliciously sexy?"  
"Nope. Just alright," Kurt confirmed, a smile playing on his lips.  
Blaine scrutinized him closely. "What do you say we try again?"  
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Try what again?"  
"Kiss."  
"But-"  
"No one has to know."  
"Y-you're okay with that?" Kurt stammered.  
Blaine shrugged. "I guess I am. Maybe thinking too much is overrated. Gossip is definitely overrated."  
"Totally," Kurt agreed. "I really don't need that."  
"Neither do I."  
"Okay, we can try again, if you want."  
Blaine scooted closer to Kurt on the bench but Kurt leaned away. "After you clean yourself up," he exclaimed, wrinkling his little button nose. "Don't take this the wrong way but you smell like an Abercrombie model who fell in a tub of salt and pig fat."  
Blaine's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I think you like it."  
"No, I assure you, I don't," Kurt laughed, rising to his feet. "This place smells like the inside of a skunk."  
"I bet you think it's hot," Blaine teased, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his shoulders. "You did call me a model, after all."  
"A sweaty, stinky model!" Kurt clarified as he dodged Blaine, running behind the punching bag as the other boy tried to grab his arm.  
"You're so turned on," Blaine leered.  
"In your dreams!" Kurt shrieked, running for the door.  
"I'll see you at lunch, Rocky," Kurt said over his shoulder. "Wear something dry and decent."  
Blaine laughed as he darted out of the locker room. Maybe this day had just gotten better.

During glee practice that afternoon, Blaine and Kurt did their best not to glance at each other every five seconds. Blaine, for his part, felt giddy and a little nervous by their conversation in the locker room. He was hesitant to feel too smug or excited, due to his constant bad luck, but at the same time, he couldn't help the rush of sweet adrenaline that coursed through his body at the thought of kissing Kurt again.  
He knew it would be an escape, if anything else, from the stress of having to think about seeing Sebastian, but as long as Kurt was okay with it, he didn't see a problem. Everybody just wanted to feel in control of something, and that's what Blaine wanted too, especially now that he'd hit rock bottom.  
"Alright, great job, guys!" Mr. Shuester complimented the New Directions after practice was over and everyone was packing up to leave. "I have a good feeling about Sectionals this year. We could actually make it to Nationals."  
"Mr. Shuester, with my voice and Blaine's stage presence, those other teams don't stand a chance," Rachel said on her way out.  
Mercedes rolled her eyes at Rachel's retreating form but smiled as she spotted Blaine getting up from his chair next to Sam and shouldering his messenger bag. Kurt came to stand beside her, his eyes momentarily lingering on Blaine before he remembered what they'd agreed on in the locker room, to not draw attention to themselves in front of others.  
Kurt was cool with the idea of just kissing Blaine, if it meant he wouldn't be ridiculed by his friends and team mates. It had been, after all, a really nice kiss..  
"Do you want to go to the Lima Bean?" Mercedes asked Kurt as they turned towards the door. "We can rant about Rachel's craziness over mocha lattes."  
"Umm," Kurt's heart stuttered as Blaine brushed past.  
"See you later, guys!"  
"Bye, Blaine," Mercedes called, while Kurt just mumbled, "Bye" almost inaudibly as Blaine dashed across the parking lot ahead.  
"So, do you want to go?" Mercedes asked him again, looking at Kurt curiously. He seemed so absentminded all of a sudden.  
"Actually, Mercedes, I should really finish my science report. I spent too much time watching Project Runway last night," Kurt hurried said.  
Mercedes mumbled "Okay", still looking at Kurt suspiciously as he ran off into the blinding sunlight.

Kurt lay on his bed with the student directory spread out in front him. He'd found Blaine's phone number inside but didn't know how to go about calling the other boy.  
"What am I supposed to say," he wondered. "Come over so we can pick up where we left off? Ugh!"  
The last person Kurt had kissed was Brittany a year ago when he'd been pretending to be heterosexual. The difference between that kiss and the one with Blaine was like the difference between Banana Republic and Sears. Blaine's lips were warm and patient and gentle, while Brittany's had been too sticky with gloss and rushed..  
Kurt sat up and reached for his phone on the bedside table and dialed Blaine's number. His hand felt clammy around the phone as he waited for the ringing to stop.  
"Hello?" a female voice answered suddenly.  
"Umm, hi! Is- is Blaine there?"  
"Yes, who is this?"  
"I'm Kurt, I'm a friend of his from school."  
"You're from McKinley?" The woman asked.  
"Yes."  
"Okay, I think he's upstairs. Hold on a minute."  
A moment later, Kurt heard Blaine's voice on the other end.  
"Hello?"  
"Blaine, this is Kurt."  
"Hey, what's up?"  
Kurt's hand shook. "Umm.. Not much, just doing homework. Do you want to come over? We could practice our songs for Sectionals."  
The last sentence came out as a high-pitched squeal and Kurt cursed himself for it.  
But thankfully Blaine just said, "Alright, sounds good. Where do you live?"  
"Oh, umm.." Kurt awkwardly gave Blaine his address and hung up. He had no idea what he was doing but he glad the call was over.  
"That was embarrassing," he mused, lying back on the mattress.

"Hey," Blaine said when Kurt opened the door for him an hour later.  
"Hi, I-I'm sorry to make you come all the way back here." Kurt's skin tingled as he recalled that Blaine lived in Westerfield, not Lima. Why hadn't he thought of that? Oh, right.. He'd been too busy picturing Blaine's arresting golden brown eyes and his deep, silky voice..  
"No, it's fine," Blaine replied smoothly as he stepped through the entrance of the Hummel home. "I was bored, anyway."  
"Oh.."  
Blaine glanced at Kurt quickly. "I didn't mean it like that."  
"Umm.. Okay." Kurt shut the door and swayed nervously from side to side as Blaine's eyes scanned the walls of the living room behind them.  
"So where do you want to practice?" Blaine asked, smiling easily at Kurt.  
Kurt walked over to the couch in the living room. "We can practice here," he declared.  
Blaine nodded, noticing how cozy the living room was with its quaint but matching furniture and simple television near the fireplace.  
"This is nice. My mom is an interior designer."  
"Oh really?" Kurt asked, intrigued.  
"Yeah, but she mostly focuses on vacation homes, like the ones on Lake Front."  
"Wow.. So I guess she doesn't hang around Lima much, huh?" Kurt joked and Blaine chuckled.  
"No, not much. I think my folks didn't even know Lima existed before they started looking up new schools for me."  
Kurt slowly sank down on the caramel-colored couch. "Yeah, well, Lima isn't exactly a popular rest stop, unless you're a lumberjack or a trucker."  
Blaine grinned. He liked how Kurt was able to distract him with his wit so easily. The events of the weekend didn't seem so groundbreaking when he was laughing at something the other boy said.  
"Are your folks home?" Blaine asked as he sat down next to Kurt.  
"No, my dad and Carol, Finn's mom, are both at work right now. Finn's at Rachel's, I think."  
Blaine chewed on the inside of his lip. "Do you think Mr. Shue is right? That we can win Sectionals?"  
Kurt seemed surprised by his question. "Sure! I mean, we have so many talented voices and we're so diverse, which a lot of the other teams aren't. Plus, I hate to admit it, but Rachel was right. You do have a stage presence, Blaine."  
"You think so?" Blaine asked, smiling as he scooted closer to him.  
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Don't get conceited. I'm still the better dresser and I can hit higher notes, which is incredibly unique."  
"Hmm.." Blaine fingered the edge of Kurt's black and white scarf, draped loosely around his creamy white neck. "I agree." With a gentle tug, he unraveled it.  
Kurt blushed as Blaine lowered his lips to his throat. He started kissing down his neck, making Kurt feel an intense heat in his stomach.  
"B-Blaine?" Kurt's hands reached up to grasp Blaine's shoulders. He closed his eyes as Blaine sucked lightly on his skin. "Umm.. I think we should practice our song s-selections."  
Blaine raised his head, giving Kurt a wicked grin. "I think we've practiced enough for today. I think we deserve a little treat."  
Kurt's eyes slid open a crack as he took in Blaine's long lashes and firm jaw line. "I think you're right," he whispered and Blaine covered his mouth with his lips, keeping one hand pressed to the small of Kurt's back. The other hand twisted in his hair.  
Blaine tugged on the strands at the base of his head, eliciting a soft groan from Kurt's lips.  
When they broke apart, Kurt took a moment to catch his breath.  
"You..are a surprisingly good kisser."  
Blaine leaned against the couch. "You should just stop with the snobbery, Kurt. You like me, admit it."  
Kurt shook his head, smiling playfully. "I don't. Not really. I'm still on the fence."  
Blaine pushed off the cushion and crawled over to Kurt. "Is that so?"  
"Yep." Kurt ran his little pink tongue over his bottom lip. He knew he wasn't as good a flirt as Brittany but he could tell that he was affecting Blaine in his own shy manner.  
And sure enough, the other boy pounced on him, pulling Kurt down so he was lying underneath him as he straddled Kurt's hips. Blaine kissed him again, cupping one of Kurt's cheeks in his warm hand. Kurt felt as though he were melting.  
Blaine thought as he kissed Kurt, that he couldn't remember Sebastian's lips ever feeling so soft. Kurt was inexperienced, to be sure, but that only made it sweeter. He felt the other boy's chest rise and fall beneath him and placed a hand over Kurt's heart. He pulled back and stared at Kurt as his blue-green eyes flew open.  
"That was amazing, admit it," Blaine said, a little hoarse.  
Kurt didn't know what to say. He didn't want to admit defeat, especially to this cocky bastard who had already taken over glee club and his friends' admiration by just striding in, but he was such a good kisser! So he decided not to say anything at all. Kurt simply grabbed the front of Blaine's t-shirt, pulled him down for another heated kiss.

* * *

Finally! Whew! Lol.. don't know if I showed this before but this was the video that inspired me to write this story. You guys should check it out. It's cute and sexy just like our Klaine :D watch?v=CyjLMTCJg7M&list=FL9_WXm_cYWoVVVCIx1VI_XA&index=92


	10. Chapter 10

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

The dressing room at Manchester High School was buzzing with activity as the show choir teams got ready to perform.

Blaine was standing in front of a vanity mirror beside Kurt, fastening a gold-colored bowtie on the collar of his black shirt.

Kurt glanced at Blaine and asked, while examining his eyebrows in the mirror, "Are you nervous?"

Blaine sighed. "A little, but I'm trying not to think about it." The truth was, he was nervous as hell, especially since he was only a few minutes away from seeing his former drug-addicted boyfriend, Sebastian Smythe.

"I think it's going to be fine," Kurt said, drawing Blaine's thoughts back to the present.

Blaine gave him an appreciative smile as Kurt reached for Mercedes's makeup kit on the vanity table.

"I think you do enough blushing without the powdery stuff," Blaine teased, enjoying the way Kurt flushed pink.

"Hell, yes, boy!" Mercedes snapped, grabbing the makeup kit from Kurt. "Your cheeks are as red as my lipstick. You do not need to waste any of my Sephora."

Kurt pouted. "But I look so pale."

"You look-" Blaine began but was brushed aside as Santana shouldered Kurt out of his chair.

"Move over, pony," The Latina croaked, leaning over the table and peering at her image in the mirror. "Brittany's making a mess at our vanity so I'm using yours."

Kurt huffed but stepped back. "I need to use the restroom, anyway," he declared, flouncing out the door.

"Well, hurry up, Kurt," Mercedes called after him. "We're on in a few minutes!"

Blaine's eyes followed Kurt's retreating form and he wondered what excuse he'd have to give to meet Kurt out in the hallway. But looking around, he saw that his team mates were busy primping themselves and practicing last minute vocals so he concluded that nobody would care if he slipped out a few seconds after the countertenor. _"Besides,_" He thought to himself. "_I deserve a little_ _distraction with everything going on._"

His heart drummed in his chest as he made his way out of the dressing room and into the brightly lit hallway. He slipped into an empty classroom and waited till he heard the door of the restrooms swing open and close. Kurt's pattering footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as he started walking back to the dressing room, but his stride was broken when a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

Blaine laughed at the shocked look on Kurt's face as he pulled him through the open door of the classroom and pushed him into a corner.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked as Blaine moved the door an inch to allow them more room and less visibility from the hall.

"Nothing," Blaine said flippantly, leaning in and pressing his mouth against Kurt's.

Kurt gasped against Blaine's lips and his hands rose to the other boy's chest, palms lying flat against the soft material of Blaine's shirt.

"Hmm.." Kurt groaned as they broke apart. "As delicious as that was, we only have a few minutes before curtain call."

"This is Sectionals, Kurt," Blaine reminded him. "Not Broadway."

Kurt made a sound of resignation but before he could speak, Blaine seized the opportunity and pressed his hands against the wall on either side of Kurt's shoulders, pressing him further into the little corner and kissing his mouth more passionately. Kurt groaned and ran his hands up and down Blaine's sides.

"Blaine?"

Kurt's hands stilled on Blaine's hips as he unmistakably heard Sam's voice echo from nearby.

Blaine pulled back and peered around the door, spotting Sam standing in the hallway with an anxious look on his face.

"Mr. Shue says we have to get out there," the blond told him. "The first team is about to perform."

"Okay," Blaine tried to make his voice sound as calm as possible, given that he was out of breath from kissing Kurt. "I'll be right there."

Sam hesitated before asking, "Have you seen Kurt?"

Behind Blaine, Kurt cowered in the corner.

"I think he's in the restroom," Blaine lied smoothly. "I'll get him on my way out."

"Okay, cool," Sam responded, seeming satisfied by the simple reply and turning away.

When he'd gone, Kurt exhaled loudly. "Oh my god, you don't think he saw anything, do you?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Kurt, you were practically molded into the wall. Come on, we gotta join the others."

He ran ahead of Kurt down the hallway towards the doors at the end, while the latter lingered a few of feet behind to make it look like he'd just emerged from the restrooms in case any of their friends were still around.

They joined the rest of the New Directions behind the burgundy curtains backstage as the first team was announced.

"Ladies and gentleman," the host of that evening's competition boomed from a microphone. "Welcome to this year's 30th annual show choir competition!"

Rachel adjusted her headband as Kurt planted himself behind her, next to Mercedes.

"Where were you?" Mercedes hissed in Kurt's ear.

"Restroom," he whispered, feeling a little embarrassed that he was lying to his best girlfriend. _"But what am I supposed to do?_" he wondered, casting a quick glance at Blaine who positioned himself next to Santana.

Kurt's cheeks flared as she pinched his butt.

Blaine gave Santana an impatient glance. "Do you mind not doing that? It's getting old."

Santana raised her eyebrows. "Oh I disagree, hot lips. It's as fresh as it was yesterday. Mmmhmm!"

"God, Santana, can't you stop being a slut for like two seconds?" Kurt suddenly snapped, much to the surprise of his entire team.

"Whoah.." Mercedes muttered.

"Excuse me?" Santana turned to glare at the countertenor. "What business is it of yours who I feel up, pony boy?"

Kurt's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. "Well, when you're openly assaulting someone in front of me, it becomes my business, Senorita Ho."

"Oh my god!" Tina exclaimed beside Mike, her mouth hanging open.

"Kurt, calm down," Rachel said, disapprovingly. "We have to focus."

"Yeah, you two piped down," Finn admonished.

"Oh shut up, Finn!" Santana replied in an annoyed tone. "Nobody cares what you think. You're just an oversized ball of lard-"

"Don't talk to my brother that way!" Kurt shrieked, making a move towards Santana but Blaine planted himself between the two, grabbing Kurt by the arm and steering him away from the fuming Latina.

"Rachel's right," Blaine said quietly, leading Kurt a few steps towards the curtains. "You have to calm down so we can get ready."

Kurt wrenched his arm out of Blaine's grip and glanced anxiously back at his team mates.

Blaine took a step back and folded his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, not wanting to draw attention.

It was clear that Kurt was worried his friends would wonder about physical contact they were sharing.

"It's okay," Kurt sighed, turning to face the stage as the announcer proclaimed that The Harmonics from Columbus were up first.

For the next few minutes, both boys listened mutely to the first team's performance.

"They're not that good," Kurt commented softly.

"Hmm.." Blaine replied noncommittally as he wondered how long it'd be before Sebastian appeared before him. He was dreading it profusely.

"Guys," Tina's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts as she walked up to them. "You better get back in place before Rachel throws a fit."

"Come on," Kurt said. "Let's show these second-rate show choirs how to diva."

Blaine grinned halfheartedly but followed Kurt back to their assembled spots as the announcer called their group name.

"Now from Lima, Ohio, please welcome the New Directions!"

Kurt squealed and Mercedes squeezed his hand. Glancing at Blaine, Kurt saw that the other teen's face was like stone.

"Wow, he's really nervous.."

As the curtains rose, Artie rolled his wheelchair into the center stage beside Rachel and Finn as he bagan singing the rap part of the song and Rachel picked up on the next note.

_"I'm Artie A, I'm on the rap so mike it._

_Here's a little story and you're sure to like it._

_Swift and sly, and I'm playing it cool with my home girl.._

_Baby, seems we never, ever agree._

_You like the movies and I like TV._

_I take things serious and you take 'em light."_

Blaine, Kurt and Mercedes joined in on the dancing as the music progressed with Mike showing off his acrobatic moves while Tina belted out the chorus notes. Santana, Brittany and Puck entertained the audience with their outrageous twists and turns, and towards the end of the performance, the crowd in the auditorium was already on its feet, clapping.

For the next song, Blaine braced himself between Rachel and Mercedes, as Mr. Shue had explained during practice, his voice was the best qualified to represent a Michael Jackson number.

Discretely, he glanced at Kurt, standing off to the side next to Tina. The other boy gave him a shy smile and a wink, which made Blaine's chest puff up a little against the tight material of his shirt.

"Well, if Kurt thinks I can do it," he thought to himself. "That's already a big step from where we started off."

As the first melody played, Blaine felt Rachel bump her shoulder against his in a friendly manner that encouraged him to sing.

_"I took my baby on a Saturday bang._

_Boy, is that girl with you?_

_Yes, we're one and the same."_

Rachel sang her part with a clear voice and a bright smile.

_"Now I believe in miracles and a miracle is happening tonight._

_But if you're thinking about my baby,_

_It don't matter if you're black or white."_

The crowd erupted in excited shouts as the New Directions started dancing to the expressive melody.

Blaine found himself genuinely having fun, twirling Rachel around and side-stepping next to Mike. For the remainder of their performance, his mind was far from the worries and stress that had plagued it only a short moment ago. But then, the song drew to a close and they had to accept their applause before being ushered off the stage, making room for the other competitors. As the New Directions took their seats in the front row, Blaine's heart stuttered a beat.

"And now, introducing the Dalton Academy Warblers from Westerfield!"

Wes led the team of boys in navy blazers out on the stage. Kurt sat down next to Blaine as the Warblers began to sing.

Kurt didn't know what to say. The Warblers sounded strong and amazing and they looked attractive, despite the polyester outfits.

Blaine quietly watched as his old team performed "I want you back" by N'sync, his insides twisting as he suddenly longed to be up on that stage with them.

"They're good," Kurt said, clapping quietly as the song ended and the Warblers started to retreat behind the curtains.

Blaine didn't reply. He caught David, Wes and Jeff's eyes before they walked away.

All three boys grinned at him and David gave him a thumb's up.

"They sound perfect," Blaine murmured, watching his friends leave the stage.

"I wouldn't go that far," Kurt said, smiling cheekily.

Blaine knew he was just trying to make him feel better but he bumped his shoulder against Kurt's appreciatively, anyway.

"Ladies and Gentleman," the announcer called a moment later. "The next team is from Cambridge, Ohio. Please give a warm welcome to Reckless Sound!"

"Oh my god.." Blaine thought, taking a deep breath. His whole body tensed up as the curtains lifted and his ex-boyfriend stared back at him from a sea of boys in pale lavender shirts and black pants.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear. "Are you okay?"

"That's him," Blaine murmured, his eyes fixed on the boy with coifed brown hair standing between a freckled redhead and an Asian teen. "Sebastian."

Kurt followed his gaze. The boy Blaine was staring at had a lithe build but wasn't as graceful when exercising his movements as the rest of his team. He seemed to be having trouble keeping pace.

Kurt didn't understand the appeal. "I guess he's attractive in a boy band sort of way but I'm not a 13-year old girl so I wouldn't know."

Sebastian's face looked untrustworthy to Kurt, as he concluded by the smirk that stayed on Sebastian's lips throughout the whole number.

Blaine, for his part, looked like he was stuck in a trance as he watched Reckless Sound perform Will Smith's "Miami".

When the show ended, the New Directions stood up to applaud their competition with the rest of the audience but Blaine remained seated.

Kurt wondered, not for the first time, what the details were of his relationship with Sebastian. What bad thing had Sebastian done to put such a lifeless look on his face?

The New Directions climbed up on the stage at the end of the competition so the judges could announce the winners, and Blaine made it a personal duty not to look at Sebastian.

Kurt brushed his fingers lightly against Blaine's hand, but the gesture was barely acknowledged. Blaine was too nervous to even smile at the blue-eyed boy beside him.

"In third place," the principal of Manchester High read off a sheet of paper in his hands. "From Cambridge, Ohio, it's Reckless Sound!"

Applause erupted, but Blaine didn't even flinch, though a smile pulled at the corners of his lips when the principal said," In second place, the Dalton Academy Warblers!" and he saw Wes accept the award.

Blaine was happy for his friends and he hoped that afterward, he'd still get a chance to say hello.

"Now, announcing the winners of this year's 30th annual show choir competition.."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, please.." Blaine heard her whisper.

"From Lima, Ohio, the New Directions!"

"Oh my god!" Brittany squealed.

Rachel jumped up and down, throwing her arms around Blaine.

"Thank you so much!" she sighed in his ear. "We couldn't have done it without you."

Blaine awkwardly folded his arms around Rachel's frame. "Thanks for letting me join in the first place."

As he pulled away, Blaine caught sight of the jealous look on Finn's face and he hurriedly turned around to embrace Kurt. Instead of a hug, however, Kurt merely gave Blaine a pat on the shoulder.

"I told you we'd win," he whispered in his ear.

There was a full moon out as the New Directions walked across the parking lot where the buses were being loaded.

Blaine was disappointed to see that the Warblers were nowhere in sight.

Nevertheless, he complimented Artie as the other boy rolled by in his wheelchair. "You put us all to shame, Artie. That was some insanely good rapping you did."

"Aww, dude, it doesn't compare to your Michael tribute. Man, you sounded specatcular!" Artie raised his fist for Blaine to bump with his own.

The elation on Blaine's face faded, though, when he heard a voice say from behind, "Yeah, Blaine, I have to admit, you took my breath away."

Blaine stiffened as his team mates turned around to see who had spoken. Blaine already knew, though, that it was Sebastian. He was smiling widely from a feet away.

There was a glimmer of wicked amusement in Sebastian's eye that made his smile seem fake.

"Sebastian," Blaine said almost inaudibly.

"I didn't recognize you at first," Sebastian declared, making his way over to Blaine. "That thrift store outfit is quite deceiving."

Blaine tried to keep his breathing regulated. Beside him, Rachel seethed, "Thrift store? These outfits were custom made."

Sebastian glanced at the soloist dejectedly. "My apologies.. It's been awhile since I've competed against a public school."

Mercedes gasped but before she could bark out a retort, Blaine found the courage to say,"It's been awhile since you've competed at all, hasn't it?"

To his shock, his ex-boyfriend looked taken off guard. "What are you saying?"

Blaine felt his heart hammering inside his chest, but this time, not from nervousness, but pure adrenaline. "I'm just remembering how you used to back out of performances when you were with the Warblers."

Sebastian's beady eyes narrowed even more. "You didn't exactly have a perfect track record either, Blaine," he said icily.

Blaine shrugged. "Maybe not, but at least I never abandoned my team to smoke pot-"

"Screw you!" Sebastian hissed, walking up to Blaine and pushing a finger in his chest. "That was a long time ago."

"Not that long," Blaine said unflinchingly.

"Guys, come on," Sam's voice broke through the short tense silence that followed as Blaine and Sebastian glared at one another. "They're loading our bus. We gotta go."

Blaine didn't move, however. He could feel his hands getting cold.

"You know what," he said finally, exhaling a slow breath. "I hope it's going well for you at your new school, seeing as your dad paid a pretty penny to put you there after all the crap you pulled at Dalton."

"Oh, like you're so perfect!" Sebastian scoffed. "I remember you taking advantage of your own friends just so you'd get your hands on those little blue pills. Now, what would your team mates think of that?" He laughed before continuing in a much louder tone, glancing around at the members who hadn't boarded the bus yet. "Do you know how Blainey here used to spend his time between rehearsals? He was a druggie."

Blaine's cheeks flared and his hands curled into fists. He couldn't believe Sebastian was playing the revenge card right now, but then again, he had provoked him..

_"But still,_" Blaine thought. _"I'm taking it like a man. If he thinks I'm going to let him humiliate me in front of my new friends, then he's an moron."_

"We don't care how Blaine used to spend his time," Rachel spoke up suddenly. Finn tried to usher her towards the bus but she brushed his hand off her shoulder and turned to glare at Sebastian full-on. "He's with us now and he's wonderful," she said a little too passionately. Blaine could tell Finn was getting angry.

"You're just a sore loser," Rachel continued, to which Blaine smirked.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," he told her, eying Sebastian coolly.

"You think this is just about the competition?" Sebastian demanded.

"It should be," Sam said before Blaine could respond. "That's why we're here, not to spread rumors but to compete. And now it's time for you to go home."

"Who do you think you are, cowboy Bob?" Sebastian scoffed. He glanced back to Blaine, his brown eyes glittering mockingly. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Blainey, are you giving head to this hillbilly twink?"

As soon as the last word left Sebastian's mouth, Blaine lunged at his ex-boyfriend, shoving him so hard, he stumbled backward. But before he could retaliate, Sam abruptly interceded and drove his fist into Sebastian's jaw.

There was a moment of silence as everyone, even the members who'd already gotten on the bus who were looking out from the windows, stared in shock. Then Mr. Shuester's voice thundered as he came running over from the exit doors. "What's going on here?" he demanded, breathing heavily.

Sebastian wiped a drop of blood from the corner his mouth, glaring at Blaine as he responded,"You just bought yourselves a lawsuit."

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :) the songs used were "Opposites Attract" by Paula Abdul and "Black or White" by Michael Jackson.


	11. Chapter 11

sorry for the long wait, guys.

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

Mr. Shuester's concerned look made Blaine squirm with embarrassment in his seat. In the chair next to him, Sam sat, staring down at the floor.

"So you punched this Sebastian," Mr. Shuester said slowly. "And he threatened to get his lawyer dad to file a lawsuit against us?"

Blaine sighed. "I think he meant me, and you shouldn't worry about Sebastian. He's just talk. He won't actually go through with it."

"What makes you think that, Blaine?" Mr. Shue asked seriously.

Blaine folded his arms over his chest. "Because Sebastian is a hothead and he already got in trouble at Dalton so his dad had to pull him out. Even if he did complain, his father wouldn't spend any time bailing him out because of a petty little spat."

"Spat?" Sam asked, turning to look at Blaine incredulously. "He called me a twink and insinuated that we were sucking each other off! No offense, dude, you're good-looking and all, but I don't swing that way."

Blaine bit back a smile as Sam blushed beet red. "Another time, another place," he caught himself thinking.

Mr. Shue glanced away for a second, duly embarrassed, as well.

"I mean his dad will think it's petty, and won't do anything," Blaine clarified, though in his head, he wondered if this were at all true. Sure, Sebastian's dad might not wish to get involved in his son's escapades again, but he might take a second look at the situation once it was revealed that Blaine had been involved. Blaine and Mr. Smythe weren't exactly on good terms.

"Well, let's hope he doesn't," Mr. Shuester said at last. "But perhaps it'd be wise to send a letter of apology to Sebastian, just the same."

Blaine's eyes widened and so did Sam's.

"Why the hell would we do that?" The blond demanded. "He's the one who picked a fight with us!"

"So he won't tell his dad-"

"But Mr. Shue, I'm not sorry. He deserved it-"

"Sam, it's still not okay," the choir director sighed. "Think about what your parents would go through if Sebastian's father did press charges for assault? They're already struggling, aren't they?" His voice grew gentle at the end and Blaine wondered what exactly he meant by that. Struggling how? Then Mr. Shue said, "They wouldn't be able to pay the fine.." and Blaine understood immediately. Sam's parents were struggling financially. Now he felt even more guilty for the fight that had broke out between him and Sebastian at Sectionals. It'd be his fault if Sam and his family got in trouble.

He opened his mouth to speak but Mr. Shue raised a hand. "Both of you have detention for a week. I'll write a letter to Sebastian Smythe myself."

Blaine nodded as Sam agreed reluctantly to their punishment, but he decided that the smart thing to do would also be for him to go talk to Sebastian, see if he could convince his conceited ex-boyfriend to not provoke his friends again.

It was a long shot, Blaine knew, but he didn't like feeling guilty for other people's pain.

"Hey, Sam!" he called out to the blond as they were walking out of the empty choir room. It was Monday and Mr. Shuester had asked them to stay after everyone had left. Sam turned around on their stairs leading to the parking lot.

"I'm sorry about Sebastian," Blaine said awkwardly. "But I appreciate what you did, sticking up for me. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, though."

Sam exhaled sharply. "Dude, your ex is a jackass. What did you ever see in him?"

Blaine shrugged. He was wondering the same thing. "Hell if I know."

Sam's lips cracked a small smile. "Well, I gotta admit, it felt good punching his brains out."

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet."

Sam gave him a light pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He'll probably back down now that he knows you have friends who'll have your back."

"Yeah," Blaine said as convincingly as he could, given that he didn't believe it. "Like I said, he's just a drama queen."

"Blaine?" Kurt called to him at the end of the school day. "Is everything alright? What happened with Sam?"

"We both got detention," Blaine answered flippantly, making his way over to his car in the packed parking lot.

Kurt lingered as he unlocked the door and took his backpack off, setting it in the passenger seat.

"Wh-what about Sebastian?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Blaine tried to keep the irritation out of his voice as he answered, "He's not going to do anything. Sebastian is more of a drama queen than you are." Blaine smirked as he caught Kurt's grimace in the car's side mirror.

"So, do you want to come over?" he asked casually, trying to steer the conversation away from his ex-boyfriend. He'd hoped his team mates, especially Kurt, wouldn't grill him too much about what happened at Sectionals.

Kurt looked unsure as he said, "Sure, I'll follow you."

Blaine shut the door, put on his seatbelt and twisted the key in the ignition, all the while watching as the slender brunette walked over to his own car, and wondered how Sebastian hadn't picked up on the fleeting glances Kurt had been sending him throughout their competition during the weekend. It had felt pretty obvious to him, and Sam apparently, Blaine remembered with a grimace.

When Kurt pulled up behind Blaine's car in the Anderson driveway, he peered up at the two-story brick house through his windshield and was glad that it wasn't so intimidating. It was just a house, albeit a beautiful house in a nice pine-laden neighborhood. Kurt didn't know what he'd been expecting..

"A haunted Victorian, maybe," he thought, exiting the Navigator. "American Horror Story type."

Blaine frowned as he saw Kurt's expression, upon exiting his car. "Something wrong? We forgot to put the birdbath in," he joked.

Kurt hurriedly said, "No, your house is lovely", and followed Blaine to the front door.

The boys stepped through a silver tiled foyer that was simple with white walls, a mahogany three-legged table in a corner on which sat a blue vase filled with lilies and a navy rug on the floor leading towards the living room. Kurt thought that the décor was classy, though a bit too cold and serious. He wondered as Blaine led him to the kitchen, what his bedroom looked like.

"Do you want a soda or water?" Blaine asked him, moving towards the refrigerator.

"Water, please," Kurt said, setting his bag on the countertop and glancing around curiously. "So what do you want to do?"

Blaine retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge and set them down on the counter.

"Thanks," Kurt said, grabbing one.

"We could watch TV or listen to music upstairs," Blaine said, shrugging as Kurt took a sip.

"Can I listen to the rest of that song you were working on?" Kurt asked, his voice rising with excitement as he suddenly remembered the lyrics Blaine had been chanting while playing guitar the day he'd found him on the steps outside McKinley.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You want to hear the rest?"

Kurt nodded. "It had potential."

Rolling his eyes, Blaine said, "Come on," and led way up the stairs to his bedroom.

He opened a door in the middle of the hall on the top floor and Kurt was amused to see that Blaine's room looked very much like Finn's back home. Blaine didn't have miniature football trophies aligning his bookshelf but he did have the generic boy checkered bed sheets, the rock band posters, desk and lap top, as well as the heaping pile of laundry sitting in a corner. Even so, Kurt was relieved to see that Blaine's room wasn't as messy or smelled as bad.

"Actually, it kinda smells good," Kurt thought to himself. "It smells like hazelnut coffee and something green; clover, ivy or something.."

Blaine went over to the window where just under it, his guitar sat pushed up against the wall. He picked it up and sat on the bed, while Kurt sank into Blaine's swivel desk chair.

Kurt felt his anticipation growing as Blaine strummed the opening notes of his song.

"There are two empty seats

On the train heading east.

I wish one was occupied

By your quirky smile and maple eyes.."

Blaine paused as he remembered writing those lyrics with Sebastian in mind. Kurt saw his brow furrow and hazel eyes hardened as he continued.

_"But maybe it's time I stop acting like a kid,_

_Feeling all these things, because you were_

_A one night stand that turned into two_

_Years of manipulation and electronic letters._

_You could've had your pick of any naïve_

_Dreamer you desired._

_I guess I was unlucky enough_

_To be the one you chose to draw in and_

_Leave strung up on_

_A power line in the middle of October_

_With no warmth or way of breaking free._

_Sing out, baby, sing out now._

_I've disappeared."_

"It's about Sebastian, isn't it?" Kurt wondered out loud.

Blaine exhaled sharply. "It was in the beginning. Maybe it still is.."

Kurt twisted his hands on his knee. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about-"

"No."

"Blaine," Kurt said slowly as though were talking to a bratty child. "It might help to let it all out, all the annoying, frustrating tidbits about Sebastian that still irk you because he's not going away-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, rising from his bed, the guitar by the neck with one hand. "I told you I don't want to talk about him."

He set the guitar in a corner and went to turn on the stereo.

When he turned back around, Blaine found Kurt standing in front of him. He put his hands on his shoulders.

"I just want to help you feel better about that whole thing at Sectionals," Kurt began, but Blaine wasn't thwarted by the caring look he was trying to pass through his aquamarine irises. Blaine knew better.

"Kurt, we both know you're just curious," Blaine said as patiently as he could without sounded annoyed. "I wasn't born yesterday. You're just looking for something to gossip about with Mercedes."

"No, I'm not-"

"If you really cared, you'd give me my space."

Kurt dropped his hands and stepped away from Blaine. "I guess you're right," he said, moving towards the door. "I guess I'll see you at school."

"Fine," Blaine replied shortly.

"Fine," Kurt echoed, indignation flashing in his eyes.

Blaine flopped on his bed after Kurt had gone, glaring up at the ceiling.

He found himself weaving through a crowded room a few minutes later, making his way around plastic red cups, potato chips and other snacks strewn on the floor, sofa cushions haphazardly flung around as people made out on the couches and danced sloppily to the pop music blaring in the background.

The beat was so loud that the walls vibrated.

"Taylor!" Blaine yelled to a young man with strawberry blond hair who stood near a wide glass window. He had a red cup in his hand and was talking to a girl in a black mini skirt and fishnet stockings.

"Taylor, have you seen Sebastian?" Blaine asked as he drew closer to the pair.

The blond boy turned to Blaine and smirked, his green eyes condescending. "Sure thing, handsome. He's upstairs."

Blaine's stomach twisted. "Thanks," he mumbled, turning in the direction of the staircase.

"Aww, don't worry," Taylor mewled, reaching out and grabbing Blaine's arm. "If that twink doesn't appreciate you, you know I will." He winked but Blaine pulled his arm back and hurried to find Sebastian on the second floor of the house.

He'd come to this party just for Sebastian's sake, because it was a school night and he knew his parents would kill him if they found out he wasn't at David's. But now, he was starting to regret what had at first sounded like a fun escapade with his boyfriend. The whole night was starting to take its toll on Blaine; the drugs in the parlor, the awful whiney music and guys trying to feel him up, some he thought weren't even in high school, and now Sebastian's abandonment of him.. Blaine was ready to go.

He opened one of the doors in the top floor hallway but found only a girl puking on the carpet next to a king sized bed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Blaine said quickly. "Are you okay?" he asked after taking a second look at her.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Here," Blaine sighed, entering the room and grasping both of the girl's hands, helping her rise as she wobbled on her pink kitty heels. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Just then two boys stumbled past the open door, one was Sebastian. He leaned against another guy's shoulder and laughed. Blaine glanced up from the sick girl to see that the other guy was much older, probably in his late 20s or 30s and had a tattoo of a skull on his arm.

Blaine shook his head, trying to dispel the disturbing memory. He remembered that night perfectly. The man Sebastian had been leaning on had been his dealer. He'd slipped Sebastian some ecstasy and had even given Blaine a sleazy one-over. Blaine had gotten into a fight with Sebastian soon after because he'd refused to stay. Blaine wasn't sure if Sebastian had only been doing drugs with his dealer and he wasn't eager to remember the exact words his ex-boyfriend had shouted at him outside the party house that night. It had been terrible. Even his parents' disappointment didn't compare to how Sebastian had made him feel; like he was just worthless.

Blaine closed his eyes. Why was it so hard for him to start over? Why did his past keep sneaking up behind him just when he thought he could get it right?

It was a long week.

Blaine avoided talking to anyone apart from Quinn and the skanks and the casual greetings he offered his team mates in glee club. For the most part, he was hoping nobody would ask about Sebastian, what had happened at Sectionals, what might happen to Sam or why he was in such a gloomy mood. Blaine just didn't have the patience to deal with the gossip.

He retreated to the bleachers with his guitar every day at lunch and walked straight to his car after class.

Kurt also worked to avoid him. The Cheerio trudged past him with his books pressed to his chest and eyes positioned forward. He only glanced back at Blaine when he was sure the other boy couldn't see.

This week of hits and misses left Blaine feeling depressed and frustrated at the end of it. On Friday, he quickly retrieved his books from his locker and dashed down the hallway towards the exit. He stopped, however, when he heard a voice call out, "Hey, twinkle-toes!"

Turning, Blaine found Dave Karofsky standing behind him, sneering. Dave's green eyes danced with mockery and Blaine immediately turned around, not wanting to indulge his game.

"Your boyfriend's been creeping on me. Just though you should know, twinkle toes."

Blaine rolled his eyes and continued towards the doors.

"He was all over me in the locker room," Karofsky shouted. "The little creep wanted to get a peek at my junk. You little queers sure are perverts, aren't cha?"

Before Karofsky could say another word, Blaine turned around.

Karofsky smirked. "He was even trying to feel me up," he said as Blaine neared.

Blaine shook his head, trying to keep calm. "Kurt has better taste than that," he said shortly.

But Karofsky didn't look perturbed. "Jealous?"

"Of a sleazy, slimy grease-ball like you? No. But let me tell you something, if you touch Kurt apart from giving him a friendly congratulatory handshake for winning Sectionals, I'm going to report you for assault."

Blaine couldn't believe he had actually said that and even the hulking football player looked shocked. Blaine stepped away from Karofsky but instead of heading outside, he turned in the direction of the locker rooms.

He barged through the door of the boys' locker room, but found the space empty. The smell of sweat was heavy and towels littered the bench but there was nobody around. Not a single shower was on.

"Kurt?"

When there was no reply, he ran out to the gym.

"Kurt, you in here?" His eyes wandered over the basketball court before landing on the bleachers. He spotted a figure sitting on one of the top rows dressed in a fiery red cheerleading uniform, dabbing at his face with a little towel.

"Blaine? What are you doing here?" Kurt asked as Blaine climbed up to where he was.

"I ran into Karofsky in the hall," Blaine said, sitting down beside the boy. "He said-"

Kurt shuddered and Blaine paused. "Are you okay? Don't you have practice?"

"Yeah, I was on my way when Karofsky cornered me outside of the girls' locker room.." Kurt paused before clarifying, "I prefer the girls' because it's safer, but today.." He didn't finish his sentence and Blaine felt a wave of relief as his eyes raked over Kurt's body and he noticed that he wasn't physically injured. He didn't know what he would've done if Karofsky had hit him..

"Come on," he said, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder and beginning to stand. "I'll walk you to practice."

"No," Kurt said, his voice shaky. "I can't go today. Coach Sylvester will be angry but I can't do flips and aerials when Karofsky just- "

Kurt's face started to crumple and Blaine rubbed his shoulder gently. "It's okay." He'd never seen Kurt come to tears before. A feeling of nausea twisted his stomach as he wondered what Karofsky had said or done to Kurt exactly. He didn't know if this was a good time to ask, though. "You can come home with me," he found himself saying suddenly. "We can watch TV or something. You don't have to go out there."

Kurt scoffed. "Coach Sylvester will be furious-"

"So what? What's she going to do, kick you off the team?"

"She just might," Kurt muttered, looking down.

"That's insane," Blaine told him. "Come on. You've never missed practice before, right?"

"Right," Kurt admitted.

"Then let's go." Blaine stood up.

After a second, Kurt raised his head.

"Okay."

As they walked out of the gym, he told Blaine, "You're unbelievably stubborn."

"Right back atcha," the other boy replied, brushing his hand against Kurt's.

At Blaine's house, Kurt let Blaine sit him down on the couch and get him a glass of water, but he didn't really feel like watching television. He felt like singing karaoke, which made Blaine smile and hook up the Sing 4 game he had to his wii and hand Kurt one of the plastic microphones.

"My friends, Wes and David and I always queen out to this," Blaine said as he sat down on the sofa next to Kurt.

Kurt smiled. "Mercedes and I are the same way. She has one of these too and our sleepovers are epic with renditions of Adele and Lady Gaga."

Blaine grinned. "You seem happier.."

"And more relaxed," he thought. Kurt didn't look like he was about to cry anymore, which was a relief.

Kurt clicked through the song names that were featured on the TV screen and said slowly, "Music is one thing that makes me feel better, no matter what kind of day I'm having."

Blaine nodded. "Me too."

They shared a quick, soft glance, and then Kurt announced the first song challenge.

After an hour of trying to one-up each other through a collection of pop and rock ballads, Kurt and Blaine put down their microphones and wandered into the kitchen for a snack.

"We only have caramel dip and apples in the healthy category," Blaine said, opening the refrigerator and taking out a plastic tray of sliced green apples and a tub of caramel dip.

Kurt smiled as he set these items on the countertop. "That's better than what my dad and Finn eat at home."

Blaine pulled out an apple slice and bit into it before asking, "What is it like living with the quarterback?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, dipping a slice of apple in the caramel also. "He's fine, if you don't mind a big goof who wears flannel and knows nothing about Broadway or fashion or culture in general."

Blaine cracked a small grin. "But he treats you okay?" He raised his eyes to Kurt's but the other boy gazed intently at the marble counter.

"Yeah, he's cool," Kurt murmured. "Mike and Artie are the best, though. They've never given me crap about my sexuality.. Well, and Sam. But for awhile it was awkward with him too."

"Why's that?" Blaine asked curiously.

To his surprise, Kurt blushed. "Because I used to think I had a crush on him."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "I can see the appeal," he mumbled, picturing the blond, well-built football player with the full lips. He could see why Kurt would be attracted to Sam but something he said threw Blaine off kilter. "Wait, you said you thought you had a crush on him?"

Kurt shrugged. "Well, it turned out I was just lonely."

"Oh." Blaine understood perfectly. After things had ended with Sebastian, he had gone to a few parties at their mutual friends' houses and made out with a few boys, trying to get his mind off Sebastian and because he'd felt rejected and lonely so he understood completely.

"Do you want to go up to my room? Listen to some music?"

Kurt nodded. "Sure."

He helped Blaine put the apples and dip back in the fridge, then both boys started climbing up the stairs. Blaine put his hand on the small of Kurt's back when he stumbled on the fourth step. To his surprise, a groan escaped Kurt's lips.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked.

Kurt brushed Blaine's hand away. "My back hurts. I fell off the pyramid at last Cheerio practice."

Blaine frowned. "But you're never on top of the pyramid. Becky and Santana are."

Kurt's eyes flashed momentarily with nervousness but he regained his composure quickly. "Becky was late so Coach Sylvester put me-"

"Stop lying, Kurt," Blaine cut in, reaching for the hem of Kurt's Cheerio t-shirt.

Kurt grabbed his hand and they locked eyes but Blaine managed to pull it up without much restraint from the other boy. Blaine was surprised he didn't put up much of a fight but when he saw the purple and yellow smudges on Kurt's creamy flesh, he realized that Kurt had secretly hoped he'd notice something was wrong.

"What the hell?" Blaine whispered, his eyes falling on the bruises peppering the Kurt's spine.

Kurt pulled his shirt back down but fixed his eyes on the wall ahead.

"Who did this?" Blaine demanded in a low voice, his fingers hovering above the bruises.

Kurt didn't answer.

"Karofsky?" Blaine prompted. He looked up to Kurt biting his lip, his teeth tearing into the pink skin.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" Kurt said after a moment, his voice as tense as his shoulders.

Blaine sucked in a slow breath. "Kurt, this is too much. Principal Figgins has to see-"

"No!" Kurt snapped, whirling around and almost losing his footing on the steps. Blaine wrapped a hand around his arm to steady him. "He'll tell my dad."

"He has to know."

"No, Blaine! If you tell anyone, I'll never speak to you again, I swear!"

Blaine almost shouted, "I don't give a damn!" but he didn't want to drive Kurt away right then. Those bruises looked really bad..

"Okay," Blaine said, running a hand through his hair. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, you should go lie on my bed."

Kurt looked at him dubiously

"I have some lotion we can put on those bruises," Blaine clarified and Kurt finally nodded.

He climbed up the remaining steps to the hallway and slipped inside Blaine's bedroom, while Blaine went to the bathroom.

He hunted through the lower cabinet until he found a tube of lotion that was labeled for healing scars and bruises and he took it out, and headed back to his room. He found Kurt sitting on the bed, twisting his hands on his lap. Kurt looked up when he approached, Kurt's aquamarine eyes widening and making Blaine's heart stutter in his chest.

"Lie down," Blaine ordered gently.

Kurt lay down on his stomach and Blaine hitched up his t-shirt, exposing Kurt's back from his shoulder blades down to the waistband of his track pants.

The bruises looked ugly against Kurt's once flawless skin. Blaine spread a thin sheen of lotion on Kurt's lower back and felt the other boy flinch at the contact.

"Shh…I'm sorry," Blaine whispered. "Does it sting?"

"A little, but it's okay," Kurt mumbled. He turned his head to the side, burying his cheek in the soft comforter.

Blaine rubbed the cool lotion over the bruises, his fingers making slow circles. It felt wrong to think of someone harming Kurt to the point of leaving marks. Blaine wished he'd had punched Karofsky in the hall back at school. He didn't know how he would react to seeing the jock the next day.

"I don't want my dad to worry," Kurt said into the bedspread. "Last year, he got this call from someone, saying his son is a fairy. He looked so upset, I was embarrassed to tell him it happens all the time. He didn't know because I usually pick up the phone when it rings so he won't have to hear it-"

On the last word, Kurt choked back a sob, and Blaine raised his head, catching sight of the tears that were filling Kurt's clear eyes.

"Hey.. He inched closer. "Come on. It's okay." Blaine kneeled beside Kurt's head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Shh.. Kurt," he said gently. "It's okay, baby."

Kurt raised his head and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Blaine settled his hand on the back of Kurt's neck and bent down to meet the other boy's stare. Kurt's eyes were now rimmed with red.

"I want to help you," Blaine said quietly. "But you won't let me."

Kurt drew in a slow breath. "That makes two of us."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't ask you about Sebastian because I was looking for gossip, Blaine."

"That's different," Blaine countered, shaking his head.

"Is it?" Kurt persisted.

Blaine fell quiet for a moment as he assessed the situation. Karofsky's bullying had gotten a lot worse. Kurt was now physically hurt, but he still refused to tell anyone for fear that his dad would know how bad it'd gotten for him at McKinley. If Blaine forced Kurt to go to Figgins's and show him the bruises, Kurt would hate him.

"Lie back down," Blaine said finally. "I need to get some more lotion."

Kurt sighed heavily but did as he said. Blaine got up and picked up the tube that was still half full. On his way out, he slipped the phone that was sitting on his computer desk into his pocket and went out into the hall. He muted the sound before taking a snapshot of Kurt's back. He walked back the room a minute later and sat on the bed, straddling Kurt's legs as he spread the more lotion on Kurt's upper shoulder blades. His phone felt heavy in the pocket of jeans but Blaine knew he couldn't just ignore this.

"Promise you won't tell," Kurt said thickly from underneath him.

"I promise," Blaine answered immediately. He didn't plan on keeping this promise but Kurt didn't need to know that._ "Right now, he just_ _needs to hear me say it,_" Blaine told himself as he felt Kurt's body relax.

"That feels good," Kurt whispered as Blaine's hands trailed down his spine.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked softly.

"Mmmhmm."

Kurt closed his eyes.

Blaine watched Kurt's back muscles rise and fall with his breaths grew steady. He slid off the bed and put the lotion on his computer desk, then came back and sat next to Kurt.

Kurt raised himself up and twisted around to face Blaine, pulling his shirt down. He leaned over and placed a tiny kiss on Blaine's cheek.

"Thank you."

Blaine stared back, his hazel eyes showing a mixture of pity and resentment.

"You promised," Kurt reminded him.

Blaine sighed heavily. "I did."

Before he could say anything else, Kurt collapsed against his chest, wrapping his hands around his waist and pressing his cheek against Blaine's collarbone.

"You promised," he said again.

Blaine folded his arms around Kurt's slender body and held him tightly. A moment later, they heard the echo of a door slam from downstairs.

"My mom's home," Blaine said indifferently.

* * *

okay, I know the homophobic word that Kurt's tormentors use on Glee isn't "fairy" but I don't feel comfortable writing it down so I hope you guys forgive me for that :) thanks for reading..


	12. Chapter 12

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

Mrs. Anderson put down her car keys on the three-legged table in the foyer and glanced up to see her son standing at the top of the stairs with another boy at his side. Her initial reaction was not surprise, but disapproval, however she decided to trust Blaine, and offered him and his friend a tiny smile. "Hi, Blaine! Who's this?"

Blaine wrapped a casual arm around Kurt's shoulders. "This is Kurt. He's a friend from school."

"Ah," Blaine's mother said as the boys started making their way down the stairs. She inspected the slender boy with blue eyes. "Nice outfit, Kurt," she said, nodding at Kurt's uniform.

"Thank you," the boy said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm on the cheerleading squad."

Blaine winced as his mother's face contorted in a look of disdain. "Oh, that's adorable!" she exclaimed, then asked, "What are you boys doing?"

Blaine shrugged. "Just listening to some music. We played karaoke too on the wii. Kurt is a merciless competitor." Blaine gave Kurt a crooked smile, which made the other boy glance away hurriedly, his cheeks tinged the lightest shade of pink.

Gina Anderson had to admit, observing Blaine with Kurt, pleased her in the sense that her son looked genuinely happy for the first time in long while. But she was also extremely cautious, given that the last boy Blaine had brought home hadn't exactly been Prince Charming. She knew her son had a tendency to jump into things without thinking them through, especially when it came to people and relationships. Blaine was a fools-rush-in kind of guy, and as of late, it hadn't worked out well for him or his family.

Gina hoped this Kurt wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing like Sebastian had been.

"Kurt, do you want to stay for dinner?" Gina found herself asking as she looked up at the pair.

"Umm.. Sure?" Kurt's reply sounded more like a question as he glanced at Blaine quickly, but the other boy gave him a reassuring smile.

"Alright, good! I'll get started on the rice. Blaine, please take out the garbage and set the table for me."

"Do you need some help, Mrs. Anderson?" Kurt asked as Blaine went to the kitchen to gather up the trash bag under the sink and heave it out the door. Mrs. Anderson gave Kurt a warm grin as the boy hurried to assist her with the rice cooker that she was reaching for in one of the lower cabinets.

"That's really nice of you, sure," she said as he filled the rice cooker with water from the tap and set it on a stove top.

"I've been cooking for my dad since I was old enough to know not burn myself," Kurt announced, accepting the bag of rice Gina handed him and pouring half of it in the cooker. He put the top on and stepped back. "If it wasn't for me, we would be eating hamburgers and pizza and I wouldn't be able to fit into these pants."

"Your mother doesn't cook?" Gina asked, turning to get a tub of raw chicken from the fridge.

"My mom passed away when I was a kid," Kurt answered. He didn't see Gina's look of shock or the way she bit her lip, embarrassed, as she turned around to face him.

"That's.. a shame, Kurt," she said awkwardly.

Kurt shrugged, trying to reassure her that her reaction was fine. "I don't remember much."

That was lie. Even though he was young when she'd died, he did remember Elizabeth Hummel. In Kurt's memory, his mother was just as much of a star as any musical celebrity. But he didn't want Blaine's mother to feel sorry for him. It already irked him that Blaine had seen the bruises on his skin.

Blaine came back in after throwing the trash into the dumpster out on the Anderson driveway and started setting the table as his mom prepared the chicken for their meal. Kurt left the kitchen to help him in the dining room.

"Your mom's nice," Kurt whispered as they arranged the silverware and place settings on the round mahogany table.

Blaine smirked. "I think she thinks we're having sex."

Kurt's cheeks glowed red and Blaine bumped his hip playfully against Kurt's.

His father was due back in an hour and Blaine's nerves threatened to get the better of him.

"I'm going to go call my dad," Kurt declared once they were done setting the table.

"Go for it," Blaine replied as Kurt walked over to the messenger bag he'd left on the couch.

"Blaine?" Blaine's mother called from the kitchen as soon as Kurt pulled out his cell phone.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, entering the kitchen where Gina was wiping the sink with a dish rag.

She cast a quick glance towards the living room then looked back at Blaine, her expression curious. "Is he your new boyfriend?" she asked in a low tone.

Blaine chuckled. "No, mom. We're just friends."

Gina raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "He's cute."

Blaine shrugged. "Yeah."

"Blaine-"

"I'm serious, Kurt and I are just friends. I'm not even his type."

Gina's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that's not true. I saw how he was staring at you on the stairs."

"You're delusional, mother," Blaine said good-naturedly, pecking her on the cheek.

"And you're lying, Blaine, which you know I have no patience for, and neither does your father."

Blaine sighed at the warning tone his mother used at the end.

"Mom, Kurt is nothing like Sebastian so can you please drop it? He's already nervous!"

Gina glanced quickly at the boy standing in the living room with a phone pressed to his ear, and nodded. "Fine. But I'm warning you, Blaine, if you're using this boy to take advantage of my trust in you, I won't defend you against your father this time."

Blaine dropped his gaze, embarrassed as they heard the front door click open. Blaine hurried to the living room as Kurt slid his phone back in his book bag.

"My dad says I can stay," Kurt told Blaine.

"Blaine?" a grainy masculine voice echoed from the foyer. Both boys turned to see a man in a dove gray blazer and matching office pants stride across the tiled floor, holding a briefcase in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

"Hi, Dad," Blaine said, taking a slow breath as his father approached with a cautious look on his face. Blaine laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "This is Kurt. We're in glee club together. Mom invited him for dinner."

Mr. Anderson looked Kurt up and down for second before holding out his and saying, "I'm Tyler Anderson, Blaine's dad."

"Kurt…Hummel," Kurt said, quickly shaking the man's hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Mr. Anderson nodded, then proceeded to go into the kitchen.

The boys found themselves sitting at the dining room table a few minutes later between Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Anderson, who had changed out of his suit and was now wearing a cinnamon brown button shirt that complimented his sharp green eyes. Kurt thought Blaine's unusually golden eye color must be a blend of his mother's hazel and his father's green. Tyler Anderson was a handsome man, but something about his square jaw and thin mouth made him look imposing.

"Kurt, you're on the cheerleading team?" He asked Kurt with disapproval clear in his voice.

Kurt chewed on his grilled chicken and nodded meekly. "Yes, sir. I am."

"And are there other boys on the team?"

Blaine suppressed a sigh, but Kurt didn't look bothered by the question.

"No, sir. I'm the only one."

"Kurt helped the Cheerios win Nationals last year," Blaine spoke up before his dad could comment further.

"Yeah, I think that's the only reason why Coach Sylvester let me stay on. That and I can dance better than any of those chicks, besides Brittany."

Blaine grinned but Mr. Anderson didn't look impressed or amused by Kurt's lighthearted barb.

"Your father doesn't mind that you've joined a girls' sport?" He demanded. "If we can even call it that," he added flippantly, to which Mrs. Anderson shot him a warning glance.

It seemed to go unnoticed, however. Mr. Anderson continued to stare at Kurt critically. For his part though, the blue-eyed boy kept a calm voice as he answered, "My dad is fine with it, sir."

"Kurt's a great singer, too, Dad," Blaine added. "He's a countertenor."

"What's that?" Mr. Anderson asked skeptically.

"It means he can hit high notes," Blaine explained. "Higher than most people."

"By most people you mean boys?"

Blaine ducked his head.

"That's right," Kurt declared, undeterred by Mr. Anderson's obvious attempt to embarrass Blaine. "I'm proud of it."

"Of course you are!" Mrs. Anderson spoke up at last, grinning a little too widely, as she held out a plate of greens. "Anyone want some more?"

Kurt took a small helping and politely ignored the uncomfortable glares Blaine and his father were exchanging.

After dinner, Kurt said good night to Blaine's parents, earning him a courteous hug from Blaine's mother and a stiff nod from his dad. Blaine walked Kurt out to his car in the driveway and held Kurt's messenger bag as he unlocked the door.

"Here," Blaine said, passing Kurt a tube of lotion.

"No, keep it," Kurt said, buckling his seatbelt. "It'll give me an excuse to come over again." He smiled sweetly.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"If you're not still mad about the Sebastian thing," Kurt replied, a little worry seeping into his voice.

Blaine leaned over and brushed his hand against his cheek. "Naw.. I was never mad, just annoyed," he admitted honestly.

Kurt nodded. "Fair enough."

After a beat of silence, he added, "Your dad doesn't seem to like me much." There was a hint of a smile on Kurt's lips, indicating that he was being sarcastic, that it was clear Blaine's father didn't like him.

Blaine sighed heavily. "It's not you he has a problem with, Kurt. It's me."

Kurt shook his head like he didn't believe him. "Blaine, you're his son. No matter what, he has to love you, right?"

But Blaine didn't respond.

"I don't know what to do," Blaine said to David over the phone that night. He was lying in bed with the lamp on his bedside table as he felt too bothered by the day's events with Kurt to sleep.

"He said if I tell anyone, he won't speak to me again.." Blaine rubbed a hand over his face as he remembered the panic in Kurt's eyes. "But I don't want to just ignore it, David. I took a picture of his back but now-"

"Wait, what?" David asked from the other end of the line.

"I didn't know what else to do! In the moment, I just kept thinking that he has to show Figgins."

"Can you send me the pic?" David asked quietly, almost like he was ashamed for wanting to see it.

But Blaine was too frustrated to care about discretion.

"Hold on," he said before sending the most recent photo on his phone.

A moment later Blaine heard David cry, "Holy crap!"

"I know," Blaine whispered, sinking further under the bed sheets.. "It's horrible."

"Dude, this is screwed up! That son of a bitch should be expelled."

"I know! It pisses me off that he's been doing this since freshman year and nobody even notices."

"That's insane. Are you sure Kurt hasn't told anyone? Do you think maybe one of the teachers knows but thinks it's stopped?"

"No, he hasn't told anyone. He's trying to keep his dad from finding out because he was sick a little while ago and Kurt doesn't want him to worry."

"But-"

"Yeah. It sucks. I feel like I'm going insane here.. I want to go to Figgins right now and show him this.. Hell, I want to go to the cops, even!"

"I think you should."

"But Kurt will hate me."

"At least he'll be safe."

"Well, how do we know that? What if Figgins decides not to do anything and the cops ask for witnesses and no one comes forward except for me? They could make it seem like I'm just trying to pick a fight with Karofsky." Blaine thought of something else too. "And you know, my reputation.. My dad will-"

"Blaine, you have to think about what's the most important thing right now," David cut in. "It's keeping Kurt safe, no matter what."

"Of course," Blaine replied instantly. The hand that wasn't clutching the phone tightened into a fist as he remembered Karofsky's sneer.

"So your reputation doesn't matter, so the principal and the cops don't matter. You have to make sure Kurt's going to be okay."

"But how do I do that without notifying someone in authority?" Blaine demanded, his voice straining with frustration.

"Show the pic to Karofsky. Tell him you'll go to the cops if he doesn't leave Kurt alone."

Blaine laid his head against his pillow, his eyes trailing to the ceiling as David's idea took form. "You think I should blackmail Karofsky.."

"If you're not going to the cops then this is the next best thing, right? Though I think that bastard should be locked up.."

Blaine bit his bottom lip. He agreed with David. He wanted Karofsky as far away from Kurt as possible, and from anyone he could be a threat to. But he also didn't want to distance himself from Kurt if he did notify the authorities.

"I think it's the only way," he finally admitted, murmuring softly into the phone.

"Yeah, but Blaine, sooner or later, you're going to have to tell someone; a teacher or maybe even Kurt's dad directly. I mean, you don't know what's going on in Karofsky's head. From the picture, I'm guessing it's nothing good."

"Yeah, you're right."

"He might've done it to someone else."

"Yeah. I'll show it to him on Monday," Blaine decided.

"But be careful," David said quickly. "Maybe you should do it in a hallway or something, somewhere with a lot of people watching."

Blaine tried to sound offended when he asked, "You think I can't take care of myself?"

"Dude, I'm just saying.."

"I gotta go."

"Okay, keep me updated."

"I will. Thanks, David."

Blaine hung up and turned the lamplight off. He rolled over on his side and glanced at the shadows on the wall. He was so physically and emotionally exhausted than in only a matter of second, he lay fast asleep, but his thought centered on Kurt's face and the bruises on his back.

* * *

thanks for reading :)


	13. Chapter 13

Glee does not belong to me.

* * *

Blaine walked into the choir room on Monday and found Kurt sitting on top of the piano, singing an old Broadway tune as Tina tapped cheerfully on the keys. He thought Kurt looked the cutest he'd ever seen him in a pair of skinny black jeans, Doc Martins, a long-sleeved maroon shirt and a wine-colored beret to match. The dark colors brought out the boy's seawater eyes and made them almost sparkle, especially when he hit the last note of the song and Tina brought the melody to a close.  
"That was fantastic, Kurt!" The bubbly Asian girl exclaimed, standing up from the piano bench as Kurt hopped down from the top.  
"I wish you'd sung along, Tina," Kurt said, going to sit in a chair a few feet away from Blaine. "Hey, Blaine," he said in a flippant tone, almost as a last thought. But Blaine grinned, knowing it was just Kurt putting on a show.  
"Hey, Kurt. Hi, Tina."  
"Blaine! What happened in detention?" Tina immediately questioned, bracing her hands on the back of Blaine's chair. "Is Sam getting arrested?"  
Blaine sighed but before he could respond, Kurt piped up with a roll of his eyes.  
"Tina, stop being so nosy! And that's old news anyway. Mr. Shue worked it out."  
Blaine pulled out his phone and quickly sent Kurt a thank you text as the disappointed Tina plopped down on a chair in one of the top rows as other members of the club started trailing in.  
Kurt didn't raise his head to glance over at Blaine when he received his text, but he did reply, even as the room filled with chatter from his classmates.

**Kurt**  
_Just returning the favor :)_

Blaine suppressed a smile as he sent Kurt a more personal text.

**Blaine**  
_You look really cute._

The other boy's phone beeped and he whipped it out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow at the message on the screen.

**Kurt**  
_You're kidding._

**Blaine**  
_No. You look dirty cute ;) not bunny cute._

**Kurt**  
_Shut up!_

**Blaine**  
_We're not talking._

**Kurt**  
_You know what I mean._

Blaine glanced over at Kurt as Mr. Shuester walked in. There was a fresh pink stain on the bridge of the other boy's nose and on his cheeks, letting Blaine know how his words had affected him loud and clear, even without any noise. Blaine grinned.

Afterwards, when everyone was scrambling to leave, he fired off another text to Kurt.

**Blaine**  
_Wanna get some coffee?_

His phone beeped as he climbed down the steps outside the choir room.

**Kurt**  
_Can't. Have to talk to Coach Sylvester :(_

Blaine bit his lip before replying.

**Blaine**  
_I'll wait._

**Kurt**  
_You don't have to._

**Blaine**  
_I know._

A second after sending Kurt the last text, Blaine rounded the building and reentered from one of the hallway entrances through the double doors. He found Coach Sylvester's office across from the soda machine where he'd first seen Kurt. Slipping inside, he found the boy standing in front of the desk, casually spinning a folder around. Kurt jumped when he saw Blaine leaning against the door.  
"Uh, what are you doing here?" he asked, staring at Blaine wide-eyed as he shut the door and approached him. "Coach Sylvester isn't going to like seeing you.." Kurt started to warn Blaine but the other boy just kept smiling in that infuriating way that, for some reason, came across as mischievous to Kurt. "I don't want go home," Blaine replied, shrugging. "It's boring."  
Kurt sucked it in a slow breath. He didn't know how to react now that Blaine had seen him with his shirt half off, displaying the bruises he'd gotten from his own personal bully. Kurt felt so humiliated. He thought that he was in control with his secrets and now everything could go to hell because Blaine Anderson knew. And it certainly wasn't helping that Kurt felt a cluster of butterflies swarming in his stomach every time Blaine looked at him like he was looking at him now, with genuine respect and a hint of protectiveness.  
"How's your back?" Blaine asked softly, his hazel eyes warm like maple syrup.  
Kurt hesitated. "It's better."  
"Can I see?"  
Kurt sighed dramatically but turned around, raising his shirt so Blaine could catch a glimpse of the bare skin underneath. Blaine felt relief at the sight of the fading yellow bruises, even though Kurt didn't let him examine them for too long. The other boy dropped his shirt back down, turning to face Blaine and giving him a mock impatient look.  
"There, see? Now, you should go-"  
"I don't think so," Blaine interrupted, stepping closer and forcing Kurt to grip the edges of the desk behind him. Blaine murmured, "One more thing" before kissing Kurt's lips.  
Kurt's eyes fell closed, despite his shock and he felt the tension in his body lessen as Blaine's hands reached up to touch his face.  
Kurt almost groaned but didn't want to seem too eager as Blaine tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth before deepening the kiss. He couldn't help but feel safe as the other boy dropped his hands to his sides, letting Kurt feel the toned muscles in his arms.  
Blaine pulled away and Kurt repeated, "You should go," but this time in a weaker voice. There was a part of him that didn't care if Coach Sylvester came in. It was nice to have someone to sneak around with, he had to admit.  
And Blaine didn't seem to mind much, especially when he was kissing Kurt's jaw and wrapping his hands tightly around his waist.  
Kurt twisted his fingers in Blaine's hair, turning his head so that he could capture his lips again. Blaine pressed his fingers against Kurt's hipbones, causing Kurt to moan in his mouth.  
All thoughts of Coach Sylvester, Cheerios practice, homework, glee club and Karofsky's menacing smirk were abandoned as Kurt lost himself in the moment. He felt a hot wave of excitement flush over his entire form and pressed himself closer to Blaine, his hands moving up the other boy's chest.  
Blaine eagerly deepened the kiss as Kurt's shaking hands clutched the front of his shirt. After a second, however, Blaine felt something unexpected and pulled back, breaking the kiss and causing Kurt to pout in frustration.  
Blaine glanced down. Kurt dropped his gaze, as well, and his cheeks instantly flushed pink as he realized why his jeans had suddenly gotten tighter.  
"Umm.." Kurt groaned, not knowing what to say. This had never happened to him in school, in front of another boy. He was mortified! Sure, it wasn't as embarrassing as if he'd suddenly had an erection in front of Sam, who he used to like. Blaine was gay, out and proud and sexually active, so he wouldn't think it was too awkward, right? Certainly it wasn't anything he hadn't encountered before..  
Kurt blushed.  
Blaine smiled like he felt sorry for him and Kurt started to get angry but before he could say a word, Blaine brought his lips close to his ear and whispered, "Do you want me to take care of that?"  
Kurt squeaked something unintelligible as Blaine ran his hand down his stomach. He paused on the uncomfortable spot between his legs.  
Kurt gasped. Blaine's hand covered his crotch and he raised his head to kiss Kurt gently on the lips.  
"Does that feel good?" he asked.  
"Hmm.." Kurt murmured, his body starting to tense a little as Blaine's hand moved up and down his aching member.  
Blaine continued to kiss him, probably trying to get him to relax, but all Kurt could focus on was the intense motion building his arousal. It was so weird but in a strangely good way and he didn't know whether to be embarrassed or excited.  
Then they heard a door slam, the sound echoing heavily, alerting them that it'd come from the hallway. Both boys startled and Kurt wrapped a hand around the one Blaine had on his crotch.  
"You have to go now.." he said in a pressing voice.  
Blaine nodded and backed away. "Talk to you later, baby." He winked before slipping out the door. Just as he stepped into the hallway, he immediately collided with Coach Sylvester.  
The imposing woman had a thermos in one hand and a binder in the other and she was glaring down at Blaine in a way that made him stutter.  
"I was just.. umm.. looking for Brittany. She left her cell phone in the choir room."  
Coach Sylvester glanced at the closed door of her office then at Blaine. Her tone was hard as she answered, "If I catch you in my office again, Anderson, I'll tell Figgins you were stealing from me."  
"But I wasn't!" Blaine was quick to protest.  
Coach Sylvester, however, was undeterred. "And if I catch you humping one of my Cheerios in there, boy or girl," she continued. " I'll tell Figgins you want to join the celibacy club."  
Blaine's eyes widened as the woman smirked.  
"Yes, ma'am," he replied before turning towards the exit.  
"Porcelain!" he heard Coach Sylvester shout as she entered her office. "So you think you can blow off practice now? To do what, put together another hideously gay outfit?"  
Blaine cringed but swore to himself that he'd make it up to Kurt real soon.

The next day dawned cloudy, which suited Blaine just fine as he realized that he couldn't avoid confronting Karofsky any longer.

* * *

I know this isn't much of a chapter but I felt bad for making you guys wait any longer and to be honest, I'm having a slight case of writer's block right now. That being said, if anyone wants to help me as a beta, please message me because I would really appreciate it ! thanks for reading :D


	14. Chapter 14

It occurred to Blaine that he couldn't prove that Karofsky had assaulted Kurt by just showing people the picture he'd taken on his phone. They might say that anyone could've given Kurt those bruises. Also, Blaine was skeptical as to whether any McKinley High students would admit to seeing Karofsky push Kurt into the lockers, and it was easy for Karofsky to tell Principal Figgins that Kurt's friends were making it up, if Blaine did get them to speak up. He didn't know how much influence Kurt had on the student body. Sure, he was a Cheerio, but he was also openly gay, which was far from accepted in that Podunk little town, and he was in the glee club, which was social suicide at McKinley. Blaine suspected that the only reason why Santana and Brittany didn't get ridiculed was because they were considered "hot" and because they were female. If Karofsky or any of the football players laid a hand on them, they'd be expelled and arrested quicker than lightning.  
Blaine sympathized with Kurt, even if he was making him keep their non-relationship a secret. He wasn't doing it because he was hiding the fact that he liked boys. No, Kurt was very open and proud about that. He was hiding the fact that he like Blaine. As annoyed as this made Blaine, he had to admire Kurt for being confident enough in a world that was critical of anything different. Kurt Hummel had guts.  
But it still left Blaine in a complicated state of wondering what he could do that would guarantee that Kurt stay safe. He quickly realized as he drove to school that there was no way of making sure Kurt wouldn't be assaulted again if he didn't notify the authorities; Principal Figgins, Coach Sylvester, Mr. Shuester, or Kurt's dad, and that was something Kurt had made him promise not to do.  
Blaine sighed in frustration. He couldn't just sit around and let Karofsky shove Kurt into lockers and do god knows what else to him, but because they weren't really a couple, Blaine had no right to speak up for the countertenor.  
For a second, he thought, "Screw Kurt and his stupid pride!" He thought, as he pulled into the parking lot in front of McKinley, that he could just go in and tell Principal Figgins everything right then and there and show him the photo on his phone. Then he could deal with Kurt's anger or rejection later. It was extremely tempting, except for the fact that there was a chance Principal Figgins wouldn't believe Blaine, even with the picture, and then what would Blaine have? Nothing. No proof and definitely no Kurt…ever again.  
"Ugh, this is stupid!" Blaine grumbled as he stepped out of his car and swung his messenger bag across his chest.  
He was almost to the door of the main building when his phone rang.  
Drawing it out, he read the number on the screen but it was unrecognizable.  
"Hello?"  
"How's it going, Blaine? You on your way to that pathetic little public school?"  
Blaine froze on the steps. "Sebastian," he muttered through his teeth. "Why are you calling me?"  
"I missed the sound of your Danny Zuko voice."  
"I gotta go." Blaine quickly pushed past two girls blocking the entrance.  
"Now, wait a second, Blainey," Sebastian's voice rose before he could snap his phone shut. "I was hoping you'd want to meet me later to talk about that appalling incident that happened at Sectionals.."  
Blaine paused in the hallway.  
"You know, when your…friend hit me."  
Blaine, ignoring Sebastian's sarcastic tone around the word 'friend', asked, "So you're not going to make a stink about it? You're not pressing charges?"  
"I might reconsider," Sebastian leered from the other end.  
"Did Mr. Shuester email you?"  
"Your choir director did send me a very lengthy and dare I say, eloquently desperate letter of apology, but I still want to talk to you, Blaine. Offer my own apology, if that's okay."  
Blaine held his breath for a minute while he mulled over Sebastian's words. He didn't trust him one little bit. He knew Sebastian had something up his sleeve, but he figured it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with. After all, he had survived a whole year as his boyfriend, drugs, parties, shame and all. Blaine wasn't the same naïve kid he used to be. He could handle Sebastian now.  
"Okay, where do you want to meet?"

"Blaine, please stand next to Rachel," Mr. Shuester instructed Blaine during glee practice later that day.  
Blaine nodded stiffly and stepped down from the risers where he'd been poised between Kurt and Mercedes, going to stand next to the female vocalist who flashed him an appraising smile.

Her boyfriend, however, didn't look too happy with this arrangement.

"But Mr. Shue," Finn declared. "We're doing a duet and Rachel and I are the usual leads in those."  
"Yes, I know that, Finn," the choir director said in a tone that implied he was trying to be super patient with the stubborn teen. "But I want to experiment with Blaine's vocal range a little more and see how it compliments Rachel's tones. I think for this number, your voice type would work better accompanying Artie and Puck."  
Finn's eyebrows furrowed and he cast Blaine a withering glare before silently making his way to where Artie and Puck were positioned.  
"Welcome to back of the line, superstar," Puck smirked at Finn's bleak face. "Or should I say, super-sop."  
Finn rolled his eyes. "That's not even clever, man."  
His brown eyes burned holes into Blaine's back as he heard him belt out the first note beside Rachel.

Blaine didn't know how to approach Karofsky or even find him, for that matter, but he knew Sam, Puck, Mike, Artie and Finn would, though he was reluctant to ask them, given that he didn't know how to explain his reason for wanting to see that bastard.  
And it was then that he remembered Quinn Fabray, the ex-cheerleader. She would probably know how he could go about this without drawing too much attention to himself or Kurt, seeing as she'd dated jocks before and knew how they reacted most of the time. Also, it occurred to Blaine, that even though Kurt had made him promise not to tell anyone about his bruises, Quinn might be the only exception, the one person he could trust for two reasons; one being that she was detached from the glee club so she wouldn't find the need to get involved, and second, it sound irrational but Blaine felt a strange yet endearing connection to her since they'd met his first day of school.  
He knew he was probably making a mistake but he was running out of options too.  
"Hey, Puck," Blaine addressed the Quinn's ex-boyfriend at the end of glee practice that afternoon. "Do you know where Quinn is? I need to ask her something about our Biology assignment."  
Puck, who had been chatting with Finn, gave Blaine a shrug. "Haven't seen her today. She probably cut class again. I'll give you her number, though."  
He fished inside the pocket of his ragged jeans for his cell phone, while Blaine avoided eye contact with Finn who was staring daggers at him not so subtly.  
Blaine didn't want to be bothered with Finn's pettiness today. He had more complicated things to worry about, like protecting Kurt, the boy he sort of liked.  
"Here," Puck said, showing Blaine the numbers on the screen of his cell phone.  
Blaine punched them into his own phone, thanked Puck, and dashed out the choir room door.

"Quinn?"  
"Who is this?" the voice that drawled on the other end of the line was bored and slightly irritated. It also sounded like a chain-smoker's and Blaine knew that Puck had given him the right number.  
"This is Blaine," he responded as he unlocked the front door of his house and dropped his bag in the entrance, moving towards the living room.  
"Oh, hey cutie. What's up?"  
"I wanted to talk to about something…well, someone, actually."  
"Uhuh," Quinn replied monotonously. "You need some sex advice?"  
Blaine grunted as he sat down on the couch, his cheeks flushing a little as he recalled the afternoon Kurt had come over for the first time and they'd made out on that very spot. Kurt's chest had risen and fallen beneath his touch and their lips had carelessly moved together in a frantic passion..  
"Umm, no. But I do need some advice, just not that."  
"Bummer. Okay, what do you need, hot stuff?"  
Blaine chewed on his bottom lip before saying, "It's about Kurt. He's.. being harassed by Karofsky, like really bad, and I think things have gone too far. The last time I saw him, Kurt had bruises and-"  
"Boy, that's old news," Quinn interrupted with a sigh. "Kurt has been taking crap from the football players since the beginning of time."  
Blaine suddenly felt his anger flare. "But it doesn't make it right! Quinn, his back was covered in bruises and he made me promise not to tell anyone because he's afraid of his dad finding out but I can't just pretend I didn't see anything. I even took a picture with my phone while he wasn't looking.. It just looked so awful.."  
To his surprise, Blaine's breath hitched on the last word and his voice trembled. He swept a hand through his hair and glanced up at the ceiling as his eyes started to sting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried.  
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone and Blaine wondered if Quinn had grown bored and hung up. Mercifully, though, she came back on and her voice sounded more patient this time.  
"That's horrible, Blaine, but the truth is, nobody gives a damn, not even Figgins. Coach Sylvester might seem like she cares but really she just doesn't want one of her Cheerios hospitalized before she can land another championship. I think you have no choice but to tell Mr. Hummel. Maybe he'll take Kurt out of school completely and he'll be safer somewhere else."  
Blaine shook his head. "I don't think that's what he wants.. No, I'm pretty sure it's not. Kurt loves his friends and being a Cheerio. He loves being popular, even if it's the tiniest bit of popularity. He'll hate me if I went to his dad."  
"Well, what about Coach Beiste? You don't have to show her the picture, just tell her that Karofsky's bad news and I think she'll take it more seriously."  
Blaine exhaled sharply. "That's not a bad idea. I'm just worried it won't stop Karofsky from hurting Kurt more."  
"If he does, then you'll have no choice, Blaine. You'll have to tell Kurt's dad or the cops."  
"I could always blackmail him," Blaine voiced David's suggestion.  
To his chagrin, Quinn laughed. "Yeah, that only works in soap operas. Karofsky's the dumbest muscle-head I know. You threaten him, even with proof of what he did, and he'll just break your face and your phone. Trust me. The smart thing to do is what I just told you; go warn Coach Beiste about what her team is doing to Kurt and if that doesn't work, then take the picture to the cops."  
"Yeah, but-"  
"And as for Kurt hating you, then there are a lot of other cute boys you can hook up with."  
"Not really," Blaine said with a weak smile on his face. "At least, there aren't many cute out and proud guys, especially not at McKinley."  
"Kurt isn't out and proud," Quinn sniffed. "He's just stubborn. Everybody already knows he's itching to get in your pants, if he hasn't already."  
Blaine paled. "Nothing like that has happened. The little stuff we did Kurt wants to keep secret, says I'll damage his reputation." Blaine couldn't resist rolling his eyes.  
Quinn laughed. "That's pathetic. Anyway, you guys aren't doing such a good job at hiding the sexual tension is what I hear. Santana was going on about how you two were flirting up at storm at Sectionals and how Kurt threw a fit when she grabbed your ass."  
Blaine groaned. "I don't even know what the big deal is. It's not like anyone else but Kurt and Finn care about my reputation. Not even Mr. Shue is concerned that I got kicked out of Dalton."  
"Baby," Quinn said like Blaine was the most naïve person in the world. "Kurt cares because he's starting to like you and he's worried that his dad won't want him dating you if the whole marijuana scandal reaches Mr. Hummel's overprotective ears. Believe me, Kurt's dad is like a freaking bloodhound when it comes to friends and stuff. It surprises me that Kurt's managed to keep the whole bullying thing a secret for so long, actually."  
Blaine muttered, "He must work extra hard to hide it."  
Kurt's behavior was starting to really frustrate him; all the secrecy. It was what Blaine had sworn to himself that he wouldn't get involved in again. And yet, here he was, feeling guilty about someone's else's problems..  
"Kurt's also probably worried that you'll break up with him-"  
Quinn's next words snapped Blaine out of his reverie.  
"Why do you say that?" he asked, genuinely confused.  
Quinn scoffed primly. "Because, you are Blaine the bad-ass, ex-private school hottie with the sexy hips and dangerous eyes. Though arrogant and relatively interesting, Kurt is still a virgin!" Quinn emphasized the last word. "If things go too far and Kurt starts, heaven forbid, falling in love and you guys actually do something more than just kiss or frolic or whatever the hell you're doing, he's going to be scared to death that you won't be satisfied and dump him cold for a more experience piece of twinkie ass."  
"Quinn, that's ridiculous-" Blaine began but Quinn just continued as if he hadn't spoken.  
"Finn just cares about your so-called reputation because he's jealous."  
_"But I do think Kurt is sexy,_" Blaine thought to himself. He had to admit, though, that what the ex-Cheerio was telling him did make sense. He remembered seeing the shy look on Kurt's face after their first make-out and how he'd stuttered over his sentences while Blaine's hands had exploring his stomach and chest..  
Blaine could see how someone like Kurt would be shaken up if his first time having sex didn't turn out well. After all, Blaine used to be someone like Kurt.  
"But I'm not going to hurt him," He decided out loud right then, even if it sounded improbable in his mind.  
Quinn sighed. "Kurt is easily wounded, as if you haven't noticed."  
"I have," Blaine answered bitterly.  
"Maybe you should've picked one of the skanks, instead," Quinn said, half-jokingly.  
_"But I still want him,_" Blaine insisted quietly. _"I still want him to want me."_


End file.
